Hearts A Mess
by SecondTry
Summary: Alex and Owen are facing tough times ahead of them. Credit for the fabulous new cover goes to dhfreak :)
1. Chapter 1

This is my very first fanfic, so please go easy on me for now. If you come across any mistakes, I would appreciate if you let me know.

No Sean bashing intended (I think his a great guy), but I just can't help but see the potential between Alex and Owen.

Hope you all enjoy :) Title inspired by Gotye.

In case anyone is re-reading this I've done a bit of editing on the chapters.

Alex's POV:

Alex lay on her bed, starting blankly at the ceiling. It had been over a week since the mission to capture Ari and Amanda had gone sideways. Over a week since she had almost died. Over a week since she had last seen Sean.

"_Michael asked me to do a job and I did it. That's all_."

Sean's words and the way he looked at her, like he was disappointed by what he saw, were firmly embedded in her mind. It was a constant loop, eating away at everything that told her she was a strong, independent woman. But, it was the "_you don't need to explain yourself_" that really got to her. She had done her job - something that she was quite proud of and he had completely belittled that. He had made her feel like an inadequate child. He was the one that needed to explain himself.

Why couldn't he understand that Nikita, Michael and, even Birkhoff, were her family? That, by forcing her to choose, he was trying to take her away from the only people who had always been there for her, even when she thought they weren't. Why was it so hard for him to grasp the fact that she didn't want to leave them for the sake of something that she didn't even know was going to work out?

It had taken Alex by surprise when Sean had told her he loved her. Because, Alex wasn't foolish enough to think she was _**in **_ love with Sean, not yet, but she did love him and the potential for it to become deeper was there. She couldn't find it in her, to fall for someone so quickly, not after all she had been through. It was hard for her to break down her walls, especially when it came to men, but for Sean she tried. She let him have a glimpse of who she really was - a broken girl who just wanted someone to love her unconditionally. And at the first sign of trouble he basically ran away. Instead of trying to work it out, he had chosen to leave her, and that hurt. Now all she wanted was for Sean to understand that after the life that she had before meeting Nikita, she couldn't turn her back on the women who given her a reason to live.

Which lead to the other problem eating away at her. She found herself struggling to find her place in the New Division. She knew she wanted to help Nikita get the Dirty Thirty and accomplish shutting Division down completely, but she had no goals of her own. Now that she had helped shut down Percy and the Old Division and reclaimed her heritage, she felt lost. She had nothing to call her own.

Then there was the shot to her shoulder. The wound became a constant physical reminder of the emotional pain that tormented her, throbbing every time she moved. She felt useless, because going on missions had given her a purpose. She couldn't even do that and it had driven her to make one of the most stupid decisions she had ever made. She had just needed something to dull her pain. The pills only helped with the physical, but it was enough, because it made her feel in control. And she **_needed_** to feel in control. So she kept taking them.

Turning her head, she stared at the bottle of pills on her nightstand. It would be so easy to pop the lid and medicate herself away from all a problems. At least for today.

Pushing up suddenly from the bed, Alex snatched the pills from her nightstand. Just one more. That's all she needed. Her thumb was posed to open the bottle when she caught her reflection in the mirror.

She was a _**mess**_.

Her hair was dull and lifeless, there were large black bags under her eyes and her face was chalky pale, but it was the look in her eyes that made her pause. They were half dead eyes, the light slowly, but surely, draining away. She knew from experience that it would only get worse, that soon she would be turning to harder stuff to keep her demons at bay.

Staring down at the bottle and then back to her reflection, she made a decision. She could either remain a scared little girl, who turned to drugs every time her life lost meaning or she could be the woman who Nikita trained her to be – the woman she wanted to be - strong, confident. She needed to start believing in herself again.

Decision made, she walked into her bathroom, flushing the pills down the toilet.

Withdrawal was going to be a bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

Owen POV:

"_Your brain was screwed up way before I got to it. You were a broken solider, they had to keep locked away_."

Amanda's tidbit of information was doing exactly what it was intended to do; drive Owen out of his mind. He couldn't stop analysing every little part of the life he remembered, every conversation he had with Amanda or even Percy, but he could barely remember those either. They were hazy at best and at worse, just white noise. He had hoped that there would be some kind of clue as to who Sam was.

So far, no luck.

"_I fixed you_."

God damn it! He punched the sand bag hard enough that he knew his knuckles would soon be sporting new bruises. That he could deal with, it was familiar pain. He had been working out for the past hour and a half. It wasn't helping distract him from his thoughts as much as he wanted, but he kept on punching, imagining what he would do to Amanda when he got his hands in her. What the hell did she want with him?

"_You want answers and I have them_."

Owen wanted those answers, but he couldn't go after them yet. So he was stuck with the feeling that he had nothing. Nothing to drive him, nothing to focus on. Sure Nikita had given him a place in Division, but he was still kept on the outskirts. There was no invite to the round table for him. It was like they were waiting for him to slip up and show that he _**was**_ working with Amanda all along. But he couldn't help but understand the reasons behind there suspicions.

Hell, he'd even think that about someone who was in the same situation as him.

"_Where do you want me to start Owen? Or should I call you Sam? That's what your friends used to call you. Before you killed them all._"

Owen hoped that was another one of Amanda's mind-fucks. He couldn't even fathom the kind of person this Sam guy was if he had truly killed his friends. For all the bad things Owen had done, killing a friend had never been one them - although he didn't really have friends until lately, but he _**knew**_ he wasn't capable of that.

Just in case, Owen felt he was better off where he could be watched.

So, for now he remained in Division. His home away from home. He grunted at the thought, sending a swift and angry side kick to the bag, splitting it wide open. He watched the sand bleed out, feeling a twinge of sympathy, as it reminded him of the knife wound Ari had inflicted on him. It had healed up well, but, at night, he could still feel the blood flowing from his body even as Nikita tried to stop it.

Owen could barely even admit this to himself, but he had been scared of dying that day. He had lived. Now he needed to figure out what to do with that life.

Right now, he just felt restless. He wanted something to do. He could easily seek out Nikita or Michael, hell, even Birkhoff would do at this stage, to keep him company, but he had always been alone and didn't see the point in changing that now. What was the saying? Old habits and all that - at least it might be an old habit, or it might be a new one he picked up when he became Owen. Who was to know? Oh, that's right, Amanda would know.

If only Owen could mind some way of remembering for himself.

He was a _**mess**_.

Owen was unwrapping the ace bandages from his protesting hands, when a loud bang alerted him to the fact that he was not alone. It sounded like it had come from the locker room. Already on edge, Owen cautiously made his way over to the locker room door. After the explosion in medical that had almost killed Alex and him, he was constantly primed for a fight. Medical had been, yet another, attempt on his life - wasn't he just the most popular guy in the world - this time at the hands of one of his live victims from his Cleaner days. He had done a lot of nasty things as a Cleaner and they would haunt him for the rest of his life. It was his penance and he deserved to remember every vile thing he carried out on Percy's orders. His tattoos helped keep that in perspective.

Owen silently pushed the door open and took a look around. He expected someone to jump out and attack him, but what he found instead had him flying across the room, before he even realised he had moved.

Alex was on the floor, blood flowing from a head wound she must have gotten off one of the bench corners, when she fell. Her locker door was swaying slightly, so Owen assumed she must have hit it on the way down causing the loud bang. Even though she had a pretty bad gash, almost in the same spot she had been wounded on the Black Forest mission - beside and slightly above her right eye - it wasn't that, that had Owen so worried.

"Alex? Alex?" He tried rousing her even as he ripped off his t-shirt - he knew it was sweaty, but it was the best he could do for now - and used it to apply pressure to stop the bleeding.

"Alex? Can you hear me? I need you to wake up for me, kid." He tried again, but she gave no response.

Her whole body was shaking, as if she was having a seizure. Her face was ghostly white and her skin clammy to the touch. If Owen hasn't known any better he would have thought she was suffering from a really bad flu and taken her straight to medical. Fortunately for Alex, he did know better.

Withdrawal was a bitch.


	3. Chapter 3

So, first of all and most importantly, I want to talk everyone who has read and reviewed my story. It really means a lot.

Secondly, I have some good new and some bad news.

Good news is, I will probably be able to post another chapter sometime tomorrow. Somehow each time I sit down to write a chapter, it becomes longer then the one to proceed, which is why this one took a bit longer to post. Also, work decided to get in the way :(

Now for the bad news, I have an exam on Friday morning, so it will be Friday evening or Saturday before I post again, after tomorrow.

As a reader, I know how frustrating it is to wait to find out whats going to happen, but I will appreciate everyone's patience.

Thirdly, and finally, I'm changing the rating to M, to be on the safe side.

Thanks again :)

Alex's POV:

"Alex? " Alex became aware of someone calling her name from a great distance. "Do you want something for the pain?"

It sounded like Owen, but maybe she was making him up. Her mind conjuring someone to look after her. Why she had chosen Owen, she wasn't sure, but the timbre of voice calmed her, making her feel protected. It did make sense, in a weird twisted sort of way, that she would hallucinate Owen over everyone else. She didn't want Nikita, Michael, Birkhoff or Sean to see her like this; so weak.

Owen, was the only other person that she had forged some kind of connection with. And for some reason, she couldn't put her finger on, she thought that he would be able to understand what she was going through. Or at the very least it seemed like he wouldn't judge. Not that the others would hold it against her either, but she didn't want to disappoint them Even if Owen was only a hallucination, it would be nice to have the company.

"No," she whispered, managing to shake her head and answer his question even as it caused a sharp pain down her neck. "Just… want to get rid of it. No, Nik…ita or anyone. Don't want …see me like this."

The strain of even whispered words was getting to her, making her feel exhausted. Then her entire body cramped up and she was gone. Lost in the darkness.

* * *

The first thing Alex saw when she woke, again, was a white ceiling. Was she back at home? No, looking around she found herself in a different, but familiar white room. Division, her home away from home.

How pathetic was that?

She felt more at home here, than in her own apartment. After all, it was in one these rooms that she had first woken up to her new life, all of her energy focused on taking them down for Nikita and her family. She had felt, not exactly happy about what she was risking, but proud that she was finally doing something to honor her mother and father's memory. It had made her feel strong enough to deal with Amanda, constantly treating her like an addict, despite the fact that Nikita had already helped her kick the habit. Amanda wasn't privy to that piece of information and Alex was loath to admit this, but her sessions with the witch had helped her to understand her addiction a bit better.

Once you became an addict, you never really stopped being one - Alex's felt her relapse was proof of that. She had hoped - almost naively so - that once you stayed clean the problem would go away, because it hadn't been her choice to take become addicted. It had been forced on her and after she managed to stay clean when Vald had injected her, she thought that she was cured.

But really, she had a reason to stay clean then. She still had goals. She had just learned to control that part of her mind telling her that she needed a fix to survive. The irony being that the drug only helped increase the chances of her death. She had to find that control again.

Alex hadn't been prepared for her addictive nature to sneak back up on her. Now, by her own hand, she was back in the position where she needed to she was in agony. Her entire body felt like it was on fire. Her mouth felt dry, so she tired licking her lips. It didn't work. It was as if her mind had disconnected from her body so she had a reprieve from the pain. It lasted long enough for her to turn her head.

Sitting in a chair, not to far from her bed, was a man. It took her a few seconds to figure out who it was, because she had a brief flashback to Michael sitting in the exact same spot.

Owen, sat there, watching her with those guarded eyes of his.

Maybe she was still dreaming. Why else would he be there? She opened her mouth to ask him why her subconscious kept conjuring him up, when her mind and body connected again. Her body arched off the bed, as a particularly bad all-over muscle crap seized her.

"It's going to be ok, Alex." Owen's voice penetrated the fog of her mind. "It's going to get easier." He put his cool, calloused hands on either side of her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. It helped to sooth some of the pain away, even as she slipped back into the blackness.

* * *

**Alex huddled in the corner of the smelly, flea invested room, the sex slavers had locked her in. She could not stop shaking. Her breathes came in shallow little pants and it felt like she couldn't get enough oxygen into her lungs. Any minute now one of the men was going to come through the door and beat her senseless.**

**But, Alex didn't regret what she had done. She was not going to allow any of those digesting creatures, that dared call themselves men, touch her without putting up a fight. **

**Alex didn't have to wait long. The door burst open and banged against the wall. She didn't know the name of the man standing in the doorway, but she liked to call him Piss Pock or Pock for short in her mind. It was a small **

**defiance, but it helped make her feel as if she wasn't giving up. He was a tall, lanky man covered in acne scars and he always smelled of urine.**

**Pock surged into the room and grabbed Alex's shoulders, dragging her to her feet.**

"**You filthy little whore," he roared in her face, spittle flying from his mouth and landing on her face. "You good for nothing piece of shit. You were supposed to just lie there and let him fuck you, but no, you had to claw at his face and kick him in the balls. You cost me money, bitch. I should kill you!" **

**Pock let Alex go, only to backhand her across the face. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. But that wasn't the end of it. Pock started kicking her in the stomach, back and legs, careful to avoid her face. Clients didn't mind a bruise or two, but a broken nose or black eyes were bad for business.**

**Alex curled up into a ball and switched off her mind. There was no happy place for her, just darkness. **

**She didn't know how long Pock stood there kicking her, but when he stopped, she was sure, there was no way in hell that she'd be able to move for days, if not weeks. **

"**Lucky for you child, I'm feeling generous today, so I won't kill you," Pock proclaimed, like he some kind of saint. Alex wanted to be sick, but her stomach hurt to much to even breath properly. He knelt down in front of her, so he could look her in the eye and watch her reaction to his next words. "What I will do, is introduce you to a drug that will make you fly. Then, my little whore, I will personally break you in."**

**Alex started shaking again. The fear she had before Pock walked into the room, was nothing compared to the fear she felt now.**

**Pock kept his word. Two days later - sufficient enough time for Alex to heal, according to the masochist - she was introduced to oblivion from a needle and broken in; at least physically.**

* * *

Alex had been whimpering and thrashing around in her bed, for the last five minutes. Owen had been calling her to wake for just as long. He didn't want to touch her while she was having a nightmare in case she reacted badly when she woke.

"Alex! Alex! Come on! Wake up!"

Finally, Alex bolted upright and was once again faced with white walls. Her nightmare was still clinging to her and she felt dirty. But overriding that feeling was her need for someone to comfort her. To prove to her that the daily abuse she had suffered as a teenager was over. Taking a large, heaving breath, her eyes found Owen's and held.

Alex began to silently cry.

One of her walls was after crumbling, due to the strain on her body and she didn't have it in her to hide her anguish from him.

Owen started back at her for a long second, his face unreadable. Then, as if reading her mind, he walked towards the bed. He sat down beside Alex, without saying a word, placing one leg on the bed. He, then, gently, but firmly, wrapped one of his arms around her waist, watching her face, for any reaction. Alex couldn't speak or even nod, but something in her expression must have told him he was doing the right thing, because he pulled back along the bed until she was sitting between his thighs, her back against his chest, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He tugged the blankets back up, so that they covered her up to her chin.

The feeling of safety that engulfed Alex, was as sudden, as it was a surprise.

This time she chose to go back to sleep, knowing that Owen would protect her.


	4. Chapter 4

Owen POV:

Alex had stopped shaking as badly, her fever having receded somewhat. Over the past twenty-four hours, it seemed that the worst of the withdrawal had almost run its course. After Owen had gotten into the bed with her, she had no further nightmares. He was glad for that. Watching the tortured look on her face and not being able to wake her from whatever nightmare afflicted her, had made him feel helpless. She had been comatose since, except about four hours ago she had grown restless. She started moving around to get more comfortable.

Owen remained still, letting her do as she pleased so he wouldn't wake her. She ended up lying sideways against his chest, her face pressed against his neck. Her right leg thrown over his left. Her small hands found there way under his t-shirt seeking his warmth; one at the neck line, the other under the hem, so that it was pinned between his lower back and the pillow. He could feel her breath caressing his skin along his jaw line. Not sure what to do with his own hands, he ended up placing one around her waist and the other on her thigh.

Owen sighed. He really shouldn't be in this situation.

He could have very easily handed Alex over to Nikita and been done with it. But, some long dormant instinct had kicked in and he found himself cradling Alex's body to his. He carried her down to one of the rooms he was currently using as his base in the recruitment housing level. He'd been lucky that it was night and that everyone was either asleep or out of the building, but still he had narrowly avoided being caught twice, before he'd finally gotten them to the deserted side of Division. He had placed her on his bed, glad he hadn't bothered making it this morning and immediately took care of her wound. It wasn't as bad as he originally thought, but it would need a few paper stitches and a bandage.

Owen was glad he specifically picked this level as it afforded him a certain level of privacy, at least as much as one can get in Division. Besides nobody wanted to be anywhere near the ex-Cleaner. As a result he made sure to stay away from the others unless absolutely necessary. Not that he really needed to avoid them, considering the wide berth they gave him whenever he walked into a room. That, and the fear in there eyes whenever they looked at him, were enough for him to induce his own isolation. He couldn't blame them for being afraid that he might snap and kill them. The Cleaners were considered the bogie men of Division. A symbol used to frighten people into behaving or else, he would come and kill them.

Except Owen wasn't a symbol.

Shaking his head to clear it of those bitter thoughts, because there was no point in dwelling on things he couldn't change, he found himself leaning his cheek against Alex's forehead. She looked so small and fragile in his arms, that it was hard for him to understand why they had all missed the signs. There was huge dark circles under eyes and she had lost some weight even since he'd gotten here and that was worrying.

Then again, when Alex was awake, she exuded this kind of fierceness that made her appear tougher then she was. Owen knew he'd felt it when she questioned him about the mole. Everything about her, down to what she wore was meant to make people think she was made of steel. That nothing could hurt her. Most people bought it, but only because they didn't know the real Alex. Owen had a feeling that even she didn't know who the real Alex was. Not that he knew the real Alex either, but he understood external appearances being nothing like the internal, especially now that he no longer knew who he was or where he fit in.

Like right now, Owen had no idea what he was doing or why.

Nikita had told him enough about Alex's past that he knew she'd been through hell and back. If anyone understand how hell changed a person it was Owen, because he'd been through his own version of it. Then she had walked into the interrogation room and over the last few weeks she managed to get under his skin. Maybe it had something to do with her fascination with the butterfly tattoo on his chest? Or, he begrudgingly admitted, his fascination with the one at the top of her spine?

Or maybe it was simply because what she was going through, was similar to what he went through when he came off the Regimen.

When Owen was on the Regiment, he was stronger, faster, he didn't need to sleep, he was just better. Then he had found out about the side effects. Giving it up had been one of the hardest things he had ever done, because he had slowly become less. It took every once of his willpower and, if he were being honest, it helped that he couldn't get his hands on any more of the drug, to give it up. Weakness, was not something Owen wanted associated with him, but without the Regiment, that is exactly what happened to him. His remembered feeling as weak as water and it had taken a long time to retrain his body, to get used to not having all the benefits of the drug. He had gone through withdrawal alone; he didn't want that for Alex.

Denoxing the way Alex was, was extremely tough. Usually the way to go about it was to gradually reduce the dose, before putting them on a lesser form of the original drug and then gradually, weaning them off that as well. She seemed determined to go cold turkey, having not even once, begging him for something to take the pain away. He was impressed by Alex's resolve.

Now Owen just needed to figure out how he was going to get Alex back to her apartment. Sooner or later someone was going to figure out that she was missing. If he got her home now, she could tell everyone that she was suffering from a bad case of the flu and that she would be out of commission for a while. He would need some help, though and he had just the guy in mind.

While Owen was plotting there escape, unbeknown to himself, he had began stroking Alex's back. It wasn't until she let out a small sigh that he became aware of what exactly he was doing. He didn't know what had possessed him to get into the bed with her in the first place. She had looked so young and vulnerable, he had wanted to do something to help. The whole situation was obviously messing with his head, but Owen wanted to help her.

He had chosen to protect her.


	5. Chapter 5

So I know said that it would a few days before I posted again, but I was late with the last chapter due to technological difficulties so I thought this would help make up for it.

Comments are welcome. I really just want to improve my writing.

Thanks again, to everyone whose read, reviewed, favourited, or followed :)

Birkhoff POV:

Birkhoff's body tensed. The outcome of the mission depended on his next move. Taking a deep breath, he contemplated all the possible scenarios that could occur. Finally settling on an approach, he threw a grenade to his left, hoping it would cause his enemy to miss his sudden dash to the right, where there was a hidden entrance waiting for him. He knew the layout of this place like the back of his hand. Throwing another grenade far off into the distance, he covered up the sound of his shoulder hitting the door and breaking it open.

Eat that, bitch! Birkhoff thought, walking into the house. His enemy was going to be upstairs, he could feel it in his bones.

Silently making his way up the stairs, his glock .45 proceeding him, he made to the landing. He had three doors to chose from. He would bet his entire chip collection, that the guy was behind the middle door at the very end of the hall.

He so **_owned_** this mission.

Birkhoff crept down the hall, his entire being solely focused on the door in front of him. Ten steps, five...

Four...

Three...

Two...

One...

"Hey, computer boy."

Birkhoff leapt up from his chair, his X-Box controller raised above his head, ready to bash in the skull of whomever had dared sneak up on him and ruin his game. Then he saw Owen leaning against the desk, directly behind him and his arm instantly dropped. He might be pissed about his game, but he already knew who would win in a fight between the two of them. Even if the guy looked like he hadn't slept in two days.

Birkhoff made a mental note to start hitting a gym.

'Ha, like that was going to happen,' his own thoughts couldn't even take him seriously.

"I need you to do something for me," Owen continued, as if he hadn't just game-blocked Birkhoff.

"Dude, what the hell? I was the middle of a crucial mission." Birkhoff might know who'd win in a fight, but that wouldn't stop him from complaining.

"I can see it was real life or death stuff," Owen said, nodding towards the screen with his head, "or in your case, imminent death."

Birkhoff spun round. Sure enough, his character was ten seconds away from getting killed. Crap, crap, crap. He forgot to pause. He started crazily pounding buttons and narrowly avoided getting his head blown off. He ran for cover and quickly logged out of the game network. He sighed in relief and turned back to Owen.

"Well, if you plan and sneaking up on me again, could you at least give me some warning. I know you spies are made to be stealthy and all, but you could at least blink loudly or something."

Owen raised his eyebrow and blinked at Birkhoff. If Birkhoff didn't know any better, he would say that Owen was mocking him.

"Typical alpha male behaviour," Birkhoff grumbled to himself, rolling his eyes and slumping back into his chair. "I'd like to see them take a crack at Pentagon Security System or even the CIA or the FBI."

"Why are you playing that anyway? Isn't the life we lead enough?" Owen asked, interrupting Birkhoff's ramblings.

Birkhoff knew exactly why he was playing video games. He needed something to take his mind off Sonya. He'd been obsessing for days and every idea he could come up circled back to telling Micky and Nikki the truth. He hated not being able to be honest with his friends. So he threw on a game and absorbed himself in its virtual world. He had hoped that once he started living in the real world again, he'd have a fresh idea of what to do. Alas, it was not meant to be this time.

"Well you know what they say, those who can't do, play video games," he finally replied, glibly. it wasn't exactly the right answer, but Birkhoff was not about to explain himself to a former cleaner.

It was Owen's turn to roll his eyes.

"So, what brings you to my lair?" Birkhoff asked, bringing them both back to the reason Owen was here.

Owen suddenly straightened and tiredly ran a hand through his hair. He seem agitated. Birkhoff grew intrigued, despite himself. What was it that had Cleaner boy so worked up?

"Look, Birkhoff," Owen began, "you have to understand that this can go no further. It has to stay between the two of us."

'Oh, great, more secrets,' Birkhoff was getting sick of secrets, but he continued to listen.

"First, where are Nikita and Michael?"

"They are out in the field since he day before yesterday," Birkhoff answered, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "They're due back some time tomorrow."

"Well, that explains why Nikita hasn't come looking for her yet," muttered Owen, under his breath.

"Wait. Who hasn't she gone looking for?" Birkhoff tried asking, but Owen ignored him and continued talking.

"I wouldn't even be telling you this, if I had another way of getting her out of Division without being seen, but I don't." He took a deep breath, seemingly fortifying himself for whatever he was about to say.

Birkhoff took one too, Owen's agitation rubbing off on him.

"It's Alex."


	6. Chapter 6

Alex POV:

Alex woke when she felt Owen gently extract himself from her arms and legs, immediately missing the feeling of safety and his body...ah, heat. Heat, yes, she meant to think body heat. He radiated heat like a furnace and it helped lull her to sleep. She blamed her mental slip on her sluggish mind. Considering how much she'd been sleeping, that shouldn't be a problem, but all of her energy was going into healing the damage the drugs and withdrawal were causing.

"I'll be right back," Owen whispered, thinking she was still asleep, his fingers running lightly along her cheek. Alex waited until she heard the door close before attempting to sit up. She got about halfway there, propped on her elbows, then her body decided it had enough; back down to the bed she went.

Ugh, she felt like someone had tortured her, repeatedly, over a two week period.

Alex sighed and took stock of the last day and a half, at least she thought it was a day and a half, it could be more. Two thoughts were clamouring for attention. The first being what she was happy about being off the pills, but that she couldn't let herself become complacent. She couldn't fool herself into to thinking that she would never relapse again or that the thought would never cross her mind, but she could start working on her stressors. Her weaknesses. The things that were most likely to cause her to return to her addictive nature.

_"You feel weak. You feel angry because you feel weak. You have a right to feel that way. You're an addict."_

Amanda. The oxycodone. They found it in her room while she a 'recruit'. Alex had never actually taken any, but they acted as a - potentially destructive - security blanket. She thought that if she was strong enough to resist the temptation of oxycodone, then she was strong enough to make it out of Division alive. In the end, she didn't need them, there was to much going on in her life to succumb, but now, now she needed to find something to focus on. Something to keep her mind from straying back into dangerous territory. Something entirely her own; nothing to do with Division, revenge or missions. All she had to do was figure out what that something was going to be. She could think about that later, though, when she was back in her own apartment and at full health. She had expected to do that alone, from beginning to end.

But Owen was suddenly involved. He was the other thought that wanted her attention.

She couldn't even remember how she had gotten to Division in the first place, because her last memory was flushing the pills. Her theory was that she wanted to exercise the drugs out of her system and that's how she ended up here, but who knew? It was all a blur to her.

Owen had found her, though. Taken care of her. Watched over her while she slept. Comforted her.

Everything Owen had done for Alex, were things she barely let Nikita do, never mind a man she hardly knew. She was so used to taking care of herself, that there was always a fight before someone got through to her. Even then, she always struggled with allowing them to help her. All the people she forged connections with were evidence of that. They all fought to get past her defences; which was a large part of the reason she let them in. They showed her they cared enough to fight for her, even when she acted like a bitch. She could blame her feeling weak from the withdrawal symptoms, but she knew from experience that she was usually more difficult to deal with, not less.

Letting him take care of her, then, was completely out of character. She was well aware of her own stubbornness so she had no idea why she wasn't just telling him to back off and let her take care of herself, but her gut was telling her he was a good guy; that he would never hurt her. It was an odd experience for Alex to initially trust a man without getting to know him first. Her first line of defence was to always be suspicious of a man's motives. They never did something for nothing, there was always a price. Her days in the sex trade had thought her that much. But Owen had nothing to gain from her and in his own way he was just as broken on the inside as she was.

'My pain is drawn to his pain,' Alex wasn't sure where the thought had come from, but it made sense.

Alex was _**glad **_Owen was the one to find her.

She had no clue what she was going to do about him. Push him away or go with her instincts?

* * *

Alex was aware of being carried, but she was to tried to open her eyes to see where she was going. She was also aware that Owen was the one carrying her. Hmmm, body heat. She snuggled closer, her arms tightening around his neck.

"Alex?" Owen questioned, feeling her shift against his body.

"Hmmm," was all she managed to say, she was getting sleepy again.

"It's alright, I'm taking you home," Owen reassured her, his voice reverberating in his cheat and right into her, making her shiver. Her physical reactions to Owen were starting to freak her out a little. First, she falls asleep on him in a matter of seconds and now he was making her shiver; what the hell?

Why wasn't she telling Owen to get the hell away from her?

"We'll be in the car in a minute and I'll switch on the heating." Owen had mistaken her shiver to mean she was cold and Alex really didn't want to explain that it was actually his voice that made her react like that, not the temperature. "Just go back to sleep, I'll have you home in no time."

Sleep sounded like a good idea to Alex, but it wasn't until Owen placed her in the seat of a car, his hair brushing against the side of her face as he reached across her to put her seatbelt on, that she finally drifted off again.


	7. Chapter 7

Owen POV:

Owen stood looking out Alex's floor-to-ceiling windows. His forehead was pressed against the cool glass, trying to alleviate the throbbing behind his eyes. His head seemed to be on the verge of splitting open. He shouldn't be standing by the window, the light too bright. He was to tired to move. Colours kept zigzagging in and out of his vision. He closed his eyes instead, fighting the feelings of nausea and fatigue that were trying to overtake him.

_"Are the headaches back?"_

_**Yes! **_

They were _**back**_.

Back to mess with his head some more. Although they'd never been this bad.

Owen felt like he was finally losing his mind; the seams of his consciousness unraveling around him. Or perhaps he just wanted to believe he was going crazy. It would be easier, right? If this was all some kind of dream or something he cooked up in his head. It would be better then facing reality.

Owen sure thought so.

It would help him make sense of his shitty, complicated, ongoing life. If he were crazy, then he wouldn't need Amanda for answers that he could just concoct himself.

For instance, what if Sam wasn't a killer? What is he was a bank robber? Or a stunt driver? Hell, even a clown at the circus sounded like a more appealing background story. It didn't matter what life Owen choose for Sam, because he could make any of them real.

That's what crazy people did, wasn't it? Make up completely rational stories about their behaviour, their thoughts, their pasts, that were real only to them, so they could function in real life.

In that case, maybe the whole world was crazy?

Owen was dealing with a lot of 'maybes' lately and, frankly, they were starting to piss him off.

But all of that didn't really matter, because that wasn't the main issue that Owen's mind kept circling around too.

The main issue; what if Sam really **_was_** a killer? Owen's shoulders were already heavy with the weight of the sins he committed over the past few years under Percy's command, literally and figuratively. His tattoos weren't for decoration. If he had to take on Sam's sins too - a guy he didn't even remember being - he wasn't sure if he cold handle it.

The sound of rustling bed sheets distracted Owen from his destructive thoughts, pulling him from the dark place in his psyche. He didn't bother turning around to see if Alex was awake, because he could feel her eyes boring holes into the back of his head. Or it could just be the headache.

"Owen?" Definitely not the headache.

Alex sounded hesitant, nothing like her usual confident self. She sounded, the way he felt, unsure of what the fuck was going on. He gained some comfort from that.

Taking a deep breath, Owen contemplated what he was about to say. She was probably going to argue with him, tell him it wasn't a good idea, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. She would accept his proposal and that would be the end of it.

"This is how it's going to go, Alex," he began, the throbbing behind his eyes and lack of sleep making his words sound hollow. His words sounding awful loud to his ears. He needed to get a grip. He didn't hear her get up from the bed or sense her approach, until her small hand was resting on the back of his neck.

That was bad.

Owen was a highly trained killer; taking him by surprise was extremely difficult. Imagine what would have happened if he was in the field right now. He'd be dead, his throat slit, a bullet through his brain. He didn't even attempt to recover the advantage; spin round, dislodge hand, grasp opponent by the throat and reverse positions.

No, he stood still and let Alex stroke the back of his head and neck.

"Owen, what's wrong?" This wasn't the first time she'd asked that question. He could hear the increasing concern in her voice, the touch of her hand.

"Headache," he managed, before a sharp pain robbed him of his speech.

"Owen, I want you to come sit on the bed," Alex requested, grabbing his hands. "God, Owen, your hands feel like ice."

That didn't stop her from pulling him over to the bed, where she made him sit down. She then started bustling around the room, like a woman on a mission. Ha, a woman on a mission. That was funny, because Alex was a spy and she went on missions.

Ugh, his headache was making him stupid too.

Alex closed the blinds, plunging them into darkness, which Owen was grateful for. Hopefully the lights would stop dancing in front of his eyes now. He heard her moving around the room and suddenly there was light spilling in from a door off to the right. Owen cringed away from it, his head falling into hands, so he could block it out.

What was she doing?

Deciding he didn't care, as long as she didn't leave the apartment or go looking for pills - there was none, he already checked - he collapsed back on the bed, rolling over on to his stomach, so that he could bury his head in a pillow.

As it turned out it was Alex's pillow, it still smelled like of her shampoo; something citrusy and clean. Breathing in, he felt his body relax. He knew it was strange, the scent of a woman he barely knew, calming him in a way nothing else ever had.

Oh, man, he really was crazy.

How else could he explain his behaviour over the last few hours?

Again, he didn't hear her get close to him, this time something ice cold on the back of his neck signalling her return. He jerked, slightly, confused by the sensation.

"It's a cold compress, Owen. I had one in my freezer," she explained, as if reading his mind. "I think you have a migraine so this should help with the pain." She was kneeling beside him, as far as he could tell, but then he couldn't think anymore, because her hands were massaging his head.

'Oh God, it feels like I've died and gone to heaven,' Owen thought, the throbbing in his head subsiding, somewhat, under her ministrations.

A question kept bugging him though and he eventually had to ask or he wouldn't be able to relax.

"Why?"

Alex paused, Owen instantly regretted asking. He hadn't meant to make her to stop. He opened his mouth to tell her she didn't have to answer right now, but she started massaging his head again, before he could get the words.

Alex's answer, when it finally came, was softly spoken, almost as if she didn't want him to hear it.

"You took care of me."


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry guys, but I'm still getting used to the fanfiction system on managing stories, so I accidentally deleted the first chapter and had to re-upload both chapter 1 and 7.

Chapter 8 is brand new, as you can see.

Thanks again to everyone for reviewing, reading, following and favouriting :)

Oh and for having patience with me being a newbie :)

Alex POV:

Alex woke to the smell of cooking, her stomach grumbling. Turning in the bed, she found that Owen wasn't there. He must be the source of the appetising scent. If he wasn't, well, she had a gun and she wasn't afraid to use it.

Alex stretched her sore muscles, thinking about last night.

When she woke to find herself back in her apartment, she had expected Owen to be gone. She wouldn't have held him against him either; he had done more then enough, already. The first thing she'd seen, upon waking, was the glass of water by her bedside, on her locker. It was then she had noticed that her mouth felt extremely dry, her throat was on her fire and her lips were sore and cracked. She had immediately gulped the water down, grateful for the relief it provided her.

Alex knew she needed more water, but she'd have to drink it slower this time, in case she made herself sick. Gingerly scooting to the edge of her bed, she placed her feet on the floor. When she'd seen Owen standing by the window, she was a little bit thrown.

Owen was a ruggedly, handsome man, Alex could admit that much to herself. There was something appealing about him too, something that drew a person in, even if they didn't want to be drawn. She had sat there, watching his profile for at least five minutes, before she'd finally plucked up the courage to speak.

Owen didn't even open his eyes, but by the tone of his voice, she knew he'd been aware of her scrutiny, had felt her stare. His words were slurred though and Alex sprang from the bed when Owen's face contorted in what she would only call severe pain. She had to ask him if he was ok a few times, before he'd finally told her he had a headache.

Alex remembered one of the girls from her past having these types of headaches; migraines. Alina hadn't suffered from them as badly as Owen was, but Alex recalled the steps Alina took to get rid of her migraines and she figured it could also help Owen. Alex had also massaged Alina's head for her, so it had felt like a natural progression for to do the same for Owen. It wasn't until he had asked, why, that she started considering the reasons behind her actions.

It made Alex uncomfortable to acknowledge the level of familiarity that had been forged between both of them over the past few days, but acknowledge it she did, at least to herself.

"You took care of me."

That was all Alex could manage to push past her teeth.

After Owen had fallen asleep, Alex had been in desperate need of the bathroom, toothpaste and a shower. She pulled fresh underwear, a tank top and boxer shorts out of the bottom drawer of her dresser to change into. Alex felt gritty and greasy, and absolutely positive that she looked like crap.

Her bathroom mirror confirmed her suspicions. It was also the first time she noticed the cut on the side of her face beside her eye. Owen had obviously been taking care it, but there was a pretty good chance that she would have a scar.

After taking care of her bladder and teeth, she stripped far more quickly then she ever had before; almost flinging herself into the shower in her eagerness to feel like a human being again. The water felt like an oasis after a long walk in the desert. Using her lemon scented body wash, she scrubbed at her skin until she felt she'd gotten rid of the remnants of her withdrawal. Then, she applied her citrus shampoo and conditioner to her hair. She stayed under the spray of water until she felt clean. She stepped out of the shower, feeling more like herself. She dried herself with one of her towels and donned her clothes, before braiding her wet hair to keep it out of the way.

Alex was still tired, even if all she'd been doing he last few days, was sleeping. Unfortunately, there was no magic cure for what ailed her - not that she thought she'd deserve it if there was such a thing. Her body needed the sleep and she'd have to comply.

Alex was then faced with a dilemma; where would she sleep. Should she go back to her own room or use the spare room next door to it?

In the end there was no dilemma. Owen had looked after her, stayed in the same bed. She could do the same for him.

Alex pushed her bedroom door open as quietly as she could. Owen was still lying on his stomach, but his shirt was missing, as were his shoes and socks. He must have woke while she was in the shower and made himself more comfortable. His breath was deep and even, though, so he had quickly succumbed to the Sandman again. His tattoo's on his back were illuminated by light from her hallway and Alex suppressed a sudden urge to trace them with her fingers. Stepping into the room quickly and closing the door, least the light make her do something stupid, she blindly made her way over to her bed.

Alex kept her hands out in front of her, just in case she fell. She safely made to her bed and crawled into her bed, her back to Owen. He must of sensed her presence - he seemed to be good at doing that, even in his sleep - because Alex felt him shift around and suddenly his body was wrapped around hers. Alex stayed perfectly still, even when his hand found its way under her shirt, so it rested on her stomach just above her belly button, fingers splayed. She didn't move either, when his left leg found its way between her legs and wrapped around her right one. She wasn't even sure how that one happened.

Instead of moving away from Owen, like she should have, Alex found herself snuggling back into his chest, her hand moving to rest over his. She was asleep within seconds.

Now, Alex was unsure of how she should act around Owen. Part of her was ashamed of what he had seen, about what he knew about her, that part of her wanted to stay in bed and hide from him. The other part was curious; she wanted to know why he helped her? There was also the sleeping arrangements which could lead to some weirdness on both there parts.

Alex huffed in frustration. She was not going to hide. She would face him, just like she'd faced her addiction. There was that, and her stomach grumbled again. Hunger ended up driving from the coziness of her bed.

Pulling on a cardigan and socks, she padded down her hall and into the kitchen. Owen was moving around the kitchen like a natural. He'd obviously being to the store, because Alex definitely didn't have that much food in her fridge.

"Good, your awake," Owen said, without turning around from the oven, where he was flipping an omelette. Alex would have laughed if she hadn't thought that would make her look a little crazy.

Owen finally turned, a plate in each hand, loaded with food. He set them down on the kitchen island across from each other, gesturing for her to take a seat. Owen busied himself pouring two glasses of orange juice, so it was a moment before he noticed that Alex hadn't taken her seat. "Don't worry, I'm actually a pretty decent cook. Ask Nikita if you don't believe me."

Alex emitted a slightly nervous laugh, before giving Owen a small smile and took her seat at last. It hadn't been Owen's cooking skills that made her hesitate - the food smelled divine - it was just that it had been a very long time since someone had cooked her a proper breakfast.

"Are you trying to tell me I'm too skinny?" Alex asked, her eyes narrowed playfully. "There's enough on my plate alone to feed six people."

Owen's looked like it would feed ten at least. There was French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns and an omelette of course.

"I was just glad you had big plates. One less thing for me to buy," Owen said, smiling at Alex crookedly. "Now eat your food, kid, you're skin and bones."

Alex laughed without thinking, almost spitting her food in Owen's face. The embarrassed look on her face must of been something, because Owen couldn't stop laughing at her expense. She ended up throwing one of her hash browns at him.

"More for me," Owen snickered one last time, before taking pity in her. "Ok, I'll stop laughing if you eat your food. We need to have a talk."

'That was supposed to be my line,' Alex thought, but she started tucking into her food without commenting.

Owen hadn't been lying. He really was a decent cook. Better then decent, in fact. She made a mental note to come up with some excuse - that wasn't date like at all - to have him cook for her again. She ended up eating everything on her plate.

"That was delicious," Alex praised, her hand resting on her full belly. She had a unexpected flashback to Owen's hand resting in the exact same spot and felt herself flush. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and prayed that Owen hadn't noticed.

"Thanks," he said, shooting another smile. He took her plate and empty glass, as well as his own and placed them in the sink. "Now about that talk."

Alex hands started sweating. She was afraid of what he was about to say. Maybe he had changed his mind and was going to tell Nikita? Oh God, she hoped not. She didn't want to face Nikita's disappointment. It would be the worst kind of punishment.

"How's your head this morning?" Alex asked, genuinely concerned and also because it would buy her a minute to compose herself.

"I'm alright, bit tired," Owen answered, his eyes catching Alex's and holding them with an intensity that made her squirm. He knew what she was trying to do. "Thanks for helping me."

"I should be the one thanking you, Owen," Alex deflected. It wasn't that it didn't mean anything, but that she didn't want him thanking her for something he had done for her in the first place. "You don't even know me and you helped me. My problem is self-inflicted, after all; you can't help having a migraine. You could have handed me off to Nikita or Michael and washed your hands of the whole situation. But you didn't and you have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"Your going to need a sponsor, Alex," Owen stated, his gaze never straying from hers. "That was what I wanted to say last night. You need someone to keep you on the straight and narrow for the next few months."

Alex opened her mouth to protest, her mind instantly going on the defensive. She was fully capable of staying on the straight and narrow herself. She didn't need a sponsor. She had made the decision to give up the drugs on her own, she could handle staying off it.

"Alex," Owen started talking before she'd gathered her thoughts to speak. "I'm not saying that you aren't strong enough to stay clean, but that the way your going about it is extremely tough. Quitting the drugs cold turkey, like you are, the likelihood to relapse in the first few weeks goes up. You're going to need someone there to talk too, even if its just a fleeting thought in the back of your mind. You'll need to stay on track."

Alex was overwhelmed. It really sounded like he knew what he was talking about. It made sense too, she couldn't even find a way of arguing her way around it without acting like a complete bitch. Owen wasn't done talking though, there was more thing he had to say.

"As your self-appointed sponsor I'm going to need to move in."


	9. Chapter 9

I hope you all like this chapter. It took loads of editing, but I hope I did Nikita justice.

Nikita POV:

Nikita and Michael had just arrived back to Division, both exhausted after the last four days. They had traveled to Istanbul to meet with a man named Artur Blok. Blok was Russian, former KGB, turned owner of a free lance angeny. Blok had once infiltrated Gogol, so there had been a chance that he could have some new or even old information on Ari that would help find him. Ryan had received the information from a contact of his and set up the meet. Unfortunately Blok knew less about Ari, then Nikita and Michael. Nikita had felt frustrated with her lack of success in locating either Ari or Amanda. That mad women was trying to teach her some life lessons by harming her family and Nikita wanted nothing more then to get her before she could carry out any of her heinous plans.

Nikita was thinking that they had wasted there time, when Michael received a phone call from Blok. One of Blok's agents, Styles, had tangled with a rouge Division agent about six months ago. How this Styles guy has known his opponent was Division, Nikita didn't know, but she planned to ask him. Instead of returning home as scheduled, they would have to stay in Istanbul for another few hours. It would be worth it, if it led to the capture of one of the Dirty Thirty.

Blok told them to meet Styles in Fes café, located in the Grand Bazaar, at twenty hundred hours.

Nikita and Michael arrived an hour earlier to scope the place out. The Grand Bazaar was one of the largest and oldest covered markets in the world, with sixty-one covered streets and over three thousand shops. It was a hubbub of activity, a perfect place for three spies to meet. Nothing could down here without hundreds of thousands of witnesses. Despite their reasons for being there, Nikita wondered at the sights, sounds and smells that surrounded Michael and her.

"We could come back here on our honeymoon, you know?" Michael whispered in Nikita's ear, nuzzling her neck, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. They had taken a seat in the café at table where they had a full view of the only exits, the entrance and the staff door, their backs against the wall.

"We could," Nikita agreed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Or we could just get a very secluded cabin, in the middle of nowhere, with no internet access or phone reception and spend all our time in bed."

Michael grinned sexily, his eyes crinkling at the corner in the way that Nikita loved. "I have to say that sounds extremely tempting. I don't know if I'll able to hold out until after the wedding. I just might have to kidnap you before hand and have my way with you."

Nikita laughed, her hand running up the inside of Michael's thigh. She also loved with he spoke like that in his rough, gravelly voice. "Keep talking like that and I **_might_** not even put up a fight."

Michael's eyes shone with barely suppressed lust. Nikita could also feel the evidence growing as her hand moved higher. "As much as I would love to continue this, I think our man has just walked in."

Just like that Nikita and Michael separated Their professional masks falling into place so fast, that the happy couple persona they had displayed mere moments ago could be considered a figment of the imagination.

Styles, was a barrel chested man, with wide shoulders, dark brown hair and brown eyes. It was hard to put an age on him Nikita would guess he was somewhere in his late thirties. He walked into the café, his eyes scanning the crowd, until they settled on the Nikita and Michael. It was obvious that Styles was a seasoned agent in the way in moved and interacted with his environment. Styles didn't take the chair in front of the couples table, but pulled the chair off to the side so that he was seated beside Michael, his back to the wall and his eyes on the exits too.

"How do you know it was a Division agent?" Nikita was not in the mood for menacing words. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see and talk to Alex, who she hadn't been in contact with in days. She wanted to lock Michael in a room and have **_her_** way for a few...days. Lately she'd had no time for any of that. Division was still invading her life and now that she was on the inside it was even worse. She really needed to start prioritizing better.

"Cutting straight to the chase. I like that." Styles cracked his knuckles and sighed. There was a hint of a British accent. "You know I heard about what you're trying to do to Division, bringing in all the rouges. I admire that. People trained to do, the things that we do, especially under Percy's rule…"

"Wait, you knew Percy?" Michael sound as surprised as Nikita felt. "We've never come across your file before."

Styles paused and angled his head toward them, so he could look both of them in the eye. "I did, may the bastard rot in Hell." Styles returned to watching the comings and goings from the doors. "I was trained in Division in the early years of its establishment, but then Percy transferred me to another unit. I was labeled dead and my file destroyed."

Nikita nodded. It sounded plausible. Didn't mean that she trusted him, but she'd take him at his word for now. "The agent?"

"I was in a pub in London, when this woman walks up to me," Styles started, cracking his knuckles again. "She says her name is Kristen and that she's looking for some work. I, of course act dumb, and ask what kind of work she's on about? Eventually we get to the point and she says that she wants some free lance work, any kind. As long as the pay is good. I ask what agencies as she been affiliated with, even though by that stage I've got an inkling. Division, so full of outcasts and criminals gives the agents this particular look about them. It's easy to spot when you've been staring at it in the mirror for so long."

"Is this Kristen still in London?" Michael asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully

"As far as I know, she's still in that area." Styles stood. Obviously this was the end for share time. "Here's the number she gave me to contact her."

Styles threw down a card on the table and walked out of the café without so much as a goodbye.

"You know I prefer these guys to the charming ones," Michael commented, watching Nikita pick the card from the table. Nikita smiled knowing Michael was referring to Cyrus. "No sweet talking or mind games. Just straight forward information."

Michael phoned Birkhoff and gave him the number to track.

After returning to there hotel and gathering up there things, they hopped on a plane. Ten more hours and they would debrief at Division and head on home.

Now, they were currently unloading their equipment from the back of their SUV when Birkhoff wandered into the garage, an Ipad in his hand. Nikita smiled fondly, Nerd boy never changed.

"Hey Nerd," she called, drawing his attention away from the gadget. Birkhoff grinned, walking over to them.

"Mikey, Nikki, real happy to have you guys back." Birkhoff didn't bother offering to help them unload, but stood watching. Yeah, typical Nerd.

"Any developments while we were gone?" Michael asked.

"No poison gas bombs or anthrax in the post and I'm closing in on the mole," Birkhoff answered, before his expression pinched and he put the Ipad down.

"Nikki, listen." Birkhoff placed his hands on Nikita's shoulders and turned her to face him. For once he sounded serious and that made Nikita instantly worry. Birkhoff didn't really do serious unless, you, it was actually serious. She saw Michael raise his eyebrows, clearly concerned by Birkhoff behavior as well.

"The reason I didn't tell Michael when he called was because I knew you'd worry and there was nothing you could do until you got back."

"Nerd." Nikita tone said '**get to the point'**. Maybe Michael had a point about straight forward talking.

"I only found out myself yesterday evening, but Alex caught a really nasty flu and has been sick since the night before last. Owen's been looking after her though, so she's ok. He took her home last night."

Birkhoff explained it all in one breath, eager to get it out. Then he added, "Also office talk has it that Sean and Alex are on the outs and that she's been upset over it for the last couple of weeks.

Guilt instantly washed through Nikita. She knew she been unintentionally neglecting Alex, because she'd been caught up in Michael and all her Division worries. But to know the girl was sick and not being able to be there for her, that gave Nikita the kick in the butt she needed. Alex was important to her, she loved her like a sister and she didn't want to lose her.

And Owen? He was taking care of her? Nikita hadn't been aware that they'd become so close, but it did make sense that they'd gravitate towards each other. Both of them had experienced great loses in their life, they knew what it was like to be lost. They'd also both struggled with addiction, granted it was in different ways, but addiction was addiction. It didn't matter what form it took.

"Get in the car," Michael ordered, gently. "I'll drive."

Nikita really loved that he could read her so well.

* * *

When Nikita got to Alex's apartment, she realized she'd forgotten her set of keys. She'd left Michael parking the car, wanting to get check on Alex as soon as possible. She knocked, hoping that wasn't disturbing Alex from sleep. She needn't have worried.

"Nikita, what are you doing here?" Alex smiled warmly, but her skin was pale, there was dark circles under her eyes and she was thinner than Nikita had ever remembered being.

"Oh, honey," Nikita whispered softly, before throwing her arms around the fragile girl. "I'm so sorry that I've been neglecting you lately. I won't let it happen again. I promise. If I do, you have to swear you'll kick my ass for being such a bad person."

Alex laughed lightly, returning Nikita's hug. "Nikita, its ok. I know how mush stress you've been under."

"It's not ok," Nikita denied vehemently. "I should be here for you, when you need me. I haven't even asked what's going on with Sean."

Nikita couldn't see Alex's face, she pulled back slightly so they were looking each other in the eye.

"It isn't just your fault then, Nikita." Alex smiled sadly. "I could have just as easily gone to you, but I wasn't ready to talk about Sean."

"Are you now?"

Before Alex could answer, the elevator dinged signaling Michael's arrival.

"Hey Michael," Alex smiled over Nikita's shoulder. "Come on lets all go inside. Owen's in the kitchen. His probably wondering why we're all standing outside my apartment when there is a perfectly good couch in the living room."


	10. Chapter 10

Hey guys.

Sorry it took so long to upload this chapter. I got struck down with the flu which meant I had to take time off work. As soon as I was better I had to make up the time I'd missed. So between feverish delirium and work, I didn't get much writing down. It **sucked**.

I wrote an longer chapter to try make up for my absence, but I wrote it so fast spelling mistakes are a given.

I can't assay this enough, so I'm going to say it again, but thanks to everyone whose read, reviewed, favourited and even looked at my story. You guys rock.

Hope you all enjoy.

Alex POV:

Alex's chest was rising and falling faster than normal; her breathing slightly accelerated by her companions continued insistence on playing with her earring. With an arm around her shoulders, his fingers reached up to tug and tease her, brushing against the lobe and outer shell of her ear, ghosting along her neck. She had to physically fight to suppress the shiver winding its way down her spine. It would be an extremely dumb move to show that he was affecting her in any way, for so many reasons.

This was a mission; every touch, smile, caress was for the mission.

God damn it!

And thank God, all the same.

Sean was sitting at the bar watching them, his eyes glacial. Owen seemed oblivious to the glaring, but Alex wasn't fooled. She knew the two of them had words before they'd even been assigned to work together. Neither of them would tell her what it was about. There was also a tell-tale bruise along Sean's jaw line and Owen winced slightly when ever he moved his left arm. If Alex had to guess she would say bruised ribs were to blame. The whole thing was driving her crazy.

It had all started when Alex finally gave Owen an answer to the issue of moving in. She'd been glad when Nikita's knocking had interrupted her and Owen's conversation. She needed more time to think. Alex had been so happy to see Nikita. It had felt good to acknowledge the distance that had been occurring between them - not that it was on purpose on either part. It was also nice to talk to Nikita the way they'd used too. Both woman had sat in the sitting room, leaving Michael and Owen to entertain themselves in the kitchen and just talked for a couple of hours.

Eventually Nikita had to leave though, but only after they had made firm plans to have dinner later on that night, just the two of them. And of course...

"I wasn't going to ask," Nikita began, looking past Alex to make sure the men were out of hearing distance. "But, Owen?"

"Right time, right place," Alex answered quickly, a little too quickly. Nikita eyes her shrewdly, Alex could see the cogs turning in her head. She needed to distract her and fast, before Nikita started asking too many questions. She said the first thing that popped into her head. "Owen needs a place to stay and I have a spare room. I thought he could stay here."

Alex hadn't even realised she'd come to a decision until it came spewing from her mouth. She wasn't even sure why she was saying yes, but it felt like the right thing to do. She didn't want to relapse and Owen was right, she needed someone there for her, even if she would never admit that out loud. Nikita looked bemused by her outburst, before she smiled and nodded her head.

"That's a good idea. Own could do with someone around him. His been isolating himself a lot lately. This could just be what he needs."

It was Alex turn to feel bemused. She hadn't thought of it that way. That even if he was helping her, she was also helping him. It helped her to stop second guessing her decision so much. It also didn't go amiss that after Michael and Nikita left, Owen had stood in her hallway and looked at her with those piercing blue eyes, words flowing from his mouth that made Alex's heart constrict and expand in equal measure.

"I'm sorry Alex. I shouldn't have made it sound like I was commanding you to let me stay. It should be your choice. I just want to help." Owen had smiled ruefully then, his hand moving to rub the back of his head. "Besides, you'd be doing me a favour by getting me out of Division. The walls seem to be closing in around me and if I don't get out of there soon..."

He trailed off, but held her gaze, his eyes betraying the depth of his emotions. He was letting her have a glimpse of his own dark place and Alex felt her's answering back. He understood the complexities of her messed up psyche, even if his experiences were different. That was why he was giving her the control, why he wasn't forcing her, because he could. If he really wanted, he could just bribe her. Tell her that he would confess all to Nikita and she wouldn't hesitate to do and say whatever he wanted just so that it could stay their secret. She was confident he wouldn't, because despite all that he had done for Percy, he was a good man.

Alex knew right then that Owen could become someone she could count on. Someone she could trust to have her back always. In their line of work that was hard to come by. She just hoped that there doubts and demons didn't get in the way.

That was eight weeks ago, but it seemed like forever. He had moved in that evening, while she was out having dinner with Nikita. It was a little wired at first, but they had quickly developed an easy friendship. She especially loved it when he cooked, which he did nearly every night. There conversations came easily and Alex found herself looking forward to getting home after work just so she could sit, eat and talk with Owen.

That didn't mean that Sean still wasn't on her mind. It wasn't something she could forget, but she didn't want to make the first move again, just to get rejected. She wished he'd call so they could talk, but it was a month and half before he made contact again.

Alex was still looking into the mole, her time in the field restricted until her arm was a hundred percent. Owen had insisted she take a break to heal properly before she did anymore damage to her shoulder. He had also looked into some exercises she could do to help strengthen it and made sure she did them every evening. She was starting to feel more and more like the person she wanted to become. She knew it wasn't going too be a smooth journey, but she was more confident that she could weather the storm. Owen was helping her see that.

Alex was frustrated with the lack of leads in relation to the mole. They had been inactive for the last two months, but there was something off though. Something Birkhoff wasn't telling her, but she didn't want to go accusing him of anything. She knew he wasn't the mole. He would never do that. But he had information he wasn't sharing and Alex would have to let Nikita know before too long. She just wanted to give Birkhoff the chance to come forward himself. So she concentrated on going through the files about the Dirty Thirty and trying to figure out what it was she wanted to invest her time in outside of Division. So far she hadn't found anything.

While Alex was dealing with all that, Owen had been on a mission of his own. He was gone sporadically, usually for about two days at a time. Alex never worried - too much - when he left, because he was always back before she could work herself up. They had been living together for over a month and a half, when he disappeared for five days.

On the first day, she had missed his company and his cooking. On the second, she'd been looking forward to the following day, because it meant he'd be home. On the third, she told herself that he was delayed, that there was nothing to worry about. On the fourth, every possible worst-case scenario played out in her head, all ending with Owen dead somewhere. She didn't sleep that night. On the fifth day, she was the midst of calling Nikita and demanding they go look for him when he walked in the door.

Alex wasn't sure whether she wanted to beat him or hug him. In the end, there wasn't a contest. Owen looked drained. He had dark circles under his eyes, his movements weary, his shoulders slumped. It looked like the weight of the world had settled there, causing them to droop. She was across the room, her arms wrapped around him in a matter of seconds. He sagged against her and it was all Alex could do to keep them both upright.

"Owen," she whispered in his ear, her hand automatically tangling in his hair. "Let's get you to bed."

Alex desperately wanted to know what had caused Owen's current state, but she wasn't going to start asking him questions now, when he couldn't even stand by himself anymore. So, with a lot of stumbles and fumbles, she finally got him to his bed. She sat him down on the edge, before kneeling to take his shoes and socks off. Owen watched her the whole time, but his face was a blank canvas. Straightening, she unzipped his jacket and pulled it off. She held in a gasp when she saw the mess that was the remains of his t-shirt. It was covered in dirt and a lot of blood, shredded in places.

Alex hands started exploring Owen's chest for signs of a wound that could cause that much bleeding. The frantic worry on her face must have sparked something in Owen's mind, because he shackled the wrists of her wandering hands, with his own.

"It's not mine." Even Owen's voice was devoid of emotion.

Worry for his mental health, and because she needed to pull him back from the edge as quickly as possible, spurred her into action. She gently pulled her hands out his grip, pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it across the room. She took his face in her hands and made him look at her.

"Owen, I need you to come back," she softly demanded. "You need to fight against your mind's urge to shut down." Without thinking, she straddled him and pulled him into her embrace, pressing his face against her neck. Maybe being close physically would help anchor him in reality. Maybe...

"Owen," she called again, trying to reach him. She ran her hand up and down his back, the other stroking his neck. "I need you to come back. Please, whatever happened, your stronger then this."

Alex kept talking to him, trying to break through. She didn't know how long they sat there, before Owen finally responded. It was only a small movement at first, his nose brushing against the side of he neck. Alex gasped, as all of a sudden, his hands were on her hips, dragging her closer, causing her back to arch slightly. There was not an inch of space separating their bodies.

Owen's body shuddered, once, twice, as whatever horror gripped him worked its way out of his system.

Alex couldn't help but think that this was becoming a pattern of theirs. When he hurt, she comforted. When she hurt, he comforted. It was almost like they were a couple of some sort, but she discarded that thought as soon as it entered her head. She and Owen were friends. That was it. Even if they had this odd connection, this understanding that went deeper then she ever expected. She didn't know how, but Owen's friendship had become a vital part of her life. She didn't want to lose him and feelings of a romantic kind would complicate everything. So friends they would remain. Extremely close friends, who cuddled on occasion.

Owen's hand's had found there way under her top, fingers splayed across her back. They stayed like that for the rest of the night, until someone started knocking at the door.

Alex glanced over at Owen's clock; seven a.m. Who was knocking on her door at this hour? Owen lifted his head to meet Alex's questioning gaze. He shook his head indicating, he had no idea was it was either. Alex made a move to get up and answer the door, but Owen grabbed her around the waist, lifted her off his lap and placed her on the bed.

"Stay here. I'll see who it is," Owen said, gestured for her to stay put.

Alex had never been good at following orders.

Owen had already answered the door by the time Alex entered the hall. She could see the gun he hid behind the door, but he was blocking her view of who it was that had knocked. Owen's muscles were tensed, as if he was getting ready for a fight.

"You must be Sean," Owen growled, "the elusive boyfriend."

Well, crap! Owen would have to be the one to answer the door to Sean and shirtless none the less. Alex wanted nothing more then for the earth to open up and shallow her whole. Anything to escape this situation.

"Who are you?" Sean sounded angry. She could only imagine the thoughts going thought his head right now. A strange man was answering his kind-of-girlfriend-but-not-sure-because-we-haven't-actually-talked-about-it door. That thought spurred Alex into action and she rapidly made her way down the hall and tried to take the gun from Owen's hand. Owen shot her a look over his shoulder, even as he held the door partially closed so that Sean couldn't see in.

"Let me talk to him," she mouthed at Owen, trying to shove him out of the way. When that didn't work, Alex resorted to glaring at him.

"Seriously man, who are you? Where is Alex? If you've hurt her or done anything to her, I swear I'll kill you!" Owen didn't even bother to look back at Sean while he spoke, but continued his silent battle with Alex.

"Please Owen," Alex finally pleaded, knowing she'd never win against the stubborn man, not with the mood he was in right now anyway. Owen frowned, took a deep breath and stepped aside, but not before he turned back to Sean.

"You hurt her again, I'll kill **_you_**." Owen's voice took on a deadly edge, causing a spike of fear in both Alex and Sean for different reasons. Then he pulled the gun out of Alex's grip, stalked down the hall and into his bedroom.

Alex breathed a sigh of relief, her body relaxing. That had been close. She had known that Owen would look after her, but his protective instincts had surprised her and if she were honest, warmed her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

"Alex?" And she tensed back up all over again. Sean had pushed open the door while she was distracted. He stood in front of her, looking confused. "Who was that?"

"Owen," she answered, seeing no point not too.

"Owen?" Sean thought for a second, a range of emotions crossing his face, as he tried to place Owen. Finally he frowned, his eyes narrowing. "Wait, tell me that's not Owen Elliot, Alex. Tell me that you don't have a Cleaner living in your house!"

Alex frowned back at Sean. The cleaner thing was easy. Sean had access to the personnel files at Division and he would have studied every one of them. Know your enemy and all that. But how did he know Owen was living with her? She opened her mouth to ask him, but he was already talking.

"Spies gossip," Sean supplied readily. "When I was at Division the other day, I overheard someone say that you had a male agent living with you. I wanted to check that you were ok. I didn't think it would be him."

"Let me get this straight. You hear that there is a man living in my apartment and that is what prompts you to call round." Alex was pissed. "Not the fact that we haven't spoken in over a mouth and have all these unresolved issues that we could have been working on if you weren't such a stubborn ass!"

"I didn't mean it like that," Sean had the decency to look contrite, but Alex wasn't finished. Not by a long shot.

"Doesn't matter how you meant it. You tell me you love me, give me an ultimatum, and then decide that's it. Because I won't give you exactly what you want right then and there, that means we're over. Did you even read my file, Sean? Huh? If you had then you would understand that relationships of any kind are hard for me, but obviously you were so wrapped up in your own hurt feelings to consider what could be holding me back."

Alex was breathing hard by the time she finished ranting, her anger setting her face on fire. Sean was staring at her helplessly, clearly at a loss for what to say. The rage suddenly drained out of Alex and she slumped back against the wall. She was tired. Bone tired. Tired of having to be strong, tired of fighting, tired of having to explain her frightened reactions to normal actions, like being told that she was loved.

"Alex, I'm...I'm sorry..." Alex shook her head. She wasn't in the right frame of mind to talk to him properly. She wanted to sort things out, she did. But her head was pounding and she couldn't think straight.

"I can't talk right now Sean," Alex felt as weary as Owen had looked last night. "I think you should leave."

Sean nodded reluctantly, his movements stiff as he headed towards her door. His hand on the door handle, he turned back to look at her. "I am sorry Alex and I came over here today to tell you that I wanted things to work between us. Just don't give up on me, even though I have been acting like an ass. I'll make it up to you, if you give me a chance."

Alex felt tears well up in her eyes, even as she nodded, acknowledging his words. Sean gave her a small smile, walked out the door and shut it behind him.

A small sob escaped Alex, before she could get herself under control. Scrubbing at her face, she wandered down the hall, passing Owen's room in the process. His door was slightly ajar, he must have heard every word. Alex paused on the threshold of her bedroom, glancing back at Owen door. It was strange, the urge she had to seek out Owen's comfort, when she'd just being fighting with a man who told her he loved her and wanted to work on their relationship. But she had sent him away...

Alex's head and heart were seriously messed up.

Making a snap decision, she walked back to Owen's door. She continued internally debating her decision, even as she pushed open his door and entered his room. He was lying on his stomach again, his face turned away.

"I don't bite," Owen rumbled sleepily, making Alex jump. She had remained standing by the door, shifting her weight from foot to foot, unsure of how to proceed. "Just get in, Alex."

That was what she needed to hear. It snapped her out of her daze. She got under the covers and because she was feeling out of whack, she used the spot between Owen's shoulder blades as her pillow. She wanted comfort and she wanted it from him.

Alex refused to look at that too closely.

Two weeks later, she and Sean had yet to talk. At least not properly. He had been called away for a few days and by the time he got back, they were all prepping for Operation Stand. Sean had not been pleased with the way the mission roles had been doled out. Alex, Owen and Sean were part of a retrieval team. They were to capture Kristen Stand and bring her directly back to Division. Sean was the loner at the bar, the man to approach the target when she got here. Alex and Owen were the happy couple and back-up, in a secluded corner of the pub, facing the door. Alex was tucked into Owen's side, her hand resting on his knee, her head against his shoulder. She was playing her part, but she wasn't enjoying making Sean so miserable.

She also wasn't enjoying the way her body felt, pressed against Owen's or the way he couldn't seem to stop touching her, his other hand having started tracing circles and patterns along the inside of her arm. She couldn't quite bring herself to believe her own thoughts.

Alex's stomach twisted in discomfort. She was so confused about Sean and Owen that was making herself physically ill. She drew her thoughts back to the mission so that should have something other than boy troubles to focus on.

The whole thing didn't sit right with Alex. The number that Nikita had received from Styles was an old one, with Division coding, registered to Kristen. Birkhoff found three Kristen's in the system. One was dead, one was a member of Division medical personnel and still in employment. The last Kristen, Kristen Stand, was missing in action, presumed dead. From experience, Alex knew that didn't necessarily mean anything.

According to her file, Kristen Stand was twenty-seven, tall, with medium length brown hair and brown eyes, she had been arrested for murdering her drug dealer boyfriend five years ago and recruited into Division. Michael didn't remember ever training her. That, in itself was strange. But, when you add that to the fact that Kristen's file ware bare except for the above information and there was no picture for them to go on, it was all very Percy. Or maybe Amanda. They both liked their secrets.

A whole host of questions had arisen from this. They only had the bare minimum of information on the Division agent and that called for some recon. They needed to know exactly what they were walking into.

After all, it could be a trap.


	11. Chapter 11

Owen:

Owen was aware that he was taking liberties with Alex. The mission mandate dictated they act like a couple, but usually an arm around the shoulders or hand holding, with an occasional kiss on the cheek or lips would suffice. But Owen couldn't help take it a step further. He had her practically glued to his side, her body molded to his. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her. He was being selfish and probably causing an impeding argument between Alex and her would-be boyfriend. It was enough to deter him.

Owen ignored the glares being sent his way from Sean. In fact, if he were being honest, Owen would have to admit he was getting a twisted sense of satisfaction from torturing the other man. It was completely irrational, but he wanted to beat the crap out of Sean every time he saw him. He also couldn't say that the urge was completely due to the way that Sean had treated Alex – although there was that element to it too – but he didn't like the thought of the two becoming a couple again. Alex deserved someone who would bring her the moon if she asked for it, not one who tried to dictate her decisions.

Sean had been right when he said spies' gossip. After all, their business was information – and of course death and espionage - information that was considered non-life threatening was then discussed to within an inch of its life. It was as a result of this that he had heard the rumors revolving around Sean and Alex's break-up. The jest of the rumors being that Sean wanted to Alex to leave Division and because she wouldn't he had left her. Alex confirmed his suspicions one evening while they were eating dinner, a week before he'd disappeared for five days.

Owen couldn't even remember what had led them into the conversation, but Alex had grown quite and withdrawn. It was something he hadn't seen since she'd given up the painkillers. Not wanting her to feel like she had to explain herself, he had gently told her that he was here when ever she wanted to talk, there was no pressure. He could still remember the smile she had given him, almost shy, but grateful. He'd been surprised when she started talking.

"Sean wanted me to leave Division and make a life with him. He believed that because I wouldn't, that was my way of saying I didn't love him as much as he loved me." Alex smiled sadly. "But do I know about love? At least the kind of love Sean is talking about. Sometimes I think it's just too hard to love."

Alex had gotten up from the table then, taking both of their plates to the sink. Owen watched her, taking in the slumped shoulders and defeated body language.

"You don't think you deserve too be loved." It was out of his mouth before he'd even finished formulating the thought. But he knew he was right when her entire body tensed. They'd entered into some dangerous territory here, but now that it was out, there was no point hiding from it. She kept her back to him the entire time she spoke, washing the dishes.

"It's not that exactly," Alex said, slowly. "I just…When Sean told me he loved me, it scared the crap out of me. The first thing that popped into my head was what if I can't love him back in the same way. It took forever for Nikita to break down my walls, but she never stopped trying; not once, even when I shot her."

Alex paused here, taking a deep breath. Owen could see this was hard for her, but he was glad she was getting it off her chest. It was things like this that could eat away at a person's soul. Alex was too good for that.

"I'm not saying that Sean is a bad guy," she continued. "But he doesn't have the same kind of life experiences as I do. It makes it tougher for him to grasp where I'm coming from, especially in terms of a relationship. I can see that he wants to try. That he thinks knowing what happened to me before Division, helps understand me. But that's not how it works, unfortunately. I want to love him, but something keeps blocking me."

"But you love Nikita, Michael and Birkhoff?" Owen knew she did, he just wanted clarification.

"Yes, but that's different. There my family and I know… I remember what that feels like. But, Owen, I…I've never let a man get as close as Sean wants too be. It _**terrifies**_ me." Owen heard the tremor in Alex's voice. It was hard to believe she'd been through so much and was still so young. He was amazed that she could still see good in the world. But innocence and age didn't always go hand-in-hand. Alex was proof of that.

"In my past, men have had all the power and for me to willingly let a man into my he…heart," her voice faltered, but she didn't stop. "That level of emotional intimacy is not something I have experience with. I don't even know if I ever want too be that vulnerable. If he left after that…If Nikita left after everything…It would break me."

The raw honesty in her voice surprised them both. Owen sat in his chair a moment overwhelmed that she would share something like that with him. As cheesy as it sounded, he felt honored that she trusted him that much. He got up from the table and went to stand beside her. She had finished washing the glasses and plate a long time ago – it seemed – and now stood hunched over, her hands gripping the counter.

"When the right man comes along Alex, you'll know," Owen said, dearly wishing that he could find the magic words to soothe her emotional scars, but this was all he had and he hoped they'd at least help a little. "Maybe its Sean, maybe it's not. But when you do find the right person he'll consider himself so lucky, that he'll wait as long as you need to work out your issues. Even if that takes a lifetime; he'll wait."

"Aren't you just a romantic at heart," she said with another sad smile, but she bumped his shoulder with hers and handed him a tea towel. "Now I'm going to pick a movie, you dry up."

Owen knew that was her way of escaping the conversation, but he let her go. It was enough for one night. Besides living together meant they had plenty of time to talk.

Then he had gone and scared her by disappearing for five days.

It was an unspoken agreement between them that when Owen with out on his own personal mission he would be back in about two or three days. He would get in contact if he was going to be detained longer. So far it hadn't been necessary, his leads haven fallen through. It was beyond frustrating, but he gritted his teeth and continued tediously wading through his files and some Division contacts. It was while he was meeting up with a contact in Rio that he was struck down by another headache.

Owen had meet up with the contact earlier that day. It had been a waste of time, which Owen had been half-expecting. He'd gone back to the house – shack really – that he'd been using to stay under the radar, with a heavy heart. He hadn't been feeling great all day. His eyes were sore and the sun wasn't helping matters, even with his sunglasses. He'd collapsed on his bed, only to wake a few hours later.

Owen's head was pounding out a rhythmic tattoo. **Thump, thump! Thump, thump! Thump, thump! **He tried to stand, but fell back when a violent surge of pain went from his head to his entire body. An agonized scream was ripped from his body. He was extremely glad he'd picked an overcrowded area to stay where people ignored sounds like that.

There was no Alex to look after him this time; just blinding pain. He lost all track of time, the seconds, minutes and hours it took for the pain to subside seemingly going on forever. He'd been completely incapacitated, but he still dreamt.

Owen couldn't say for sure if they were dreams or if they were something more. They had definitely felt real enough. A hot desert sun, sand, blood, graves full of bodies…. They were more comparable to nightmares. If they were real…

_No wonder Percy choose me as one of his cleaners, _he thought bitterly, _I was already a monster before he got to me. _

A memory from his days in Division overtook his consciousness.

* * *

**Owen was lying on his stomach, looking through the scope of his AS50 rifle. His target wasn't due home for another five minutes, but he had been here for hours. He needed to know the layout and get a feel for his surrounding before he completed the job. Command cheeked in on him every hour, on the hour.**

**Owen didn't know – didn't want to know – the reasons why the target had to die, but these were his orders and he was a good soldier.**

**The minutes ticked by and the target pulled into his drive way right on schedule. **

"**Target in sight," he reported back to base. He watched the man get out of the car and round the back, opening the passenger door; a boy got out. The target was meant to be alone. The info was supposed to solid.**

"**Target is not alone. Repeat. Target is not alone." Owen was conflicted. He did not want to take out the target in front of the child nor did he want to shoot the child. "Should I abort?"**

**Owen was going to lose his window shortly, even now the target and boy were making there way to the door. There was a part of him that hoped they'd get inside before base came back with an order.**

"**Negative," Percy spoke in his ear. "Shoot the target."**

"**Sir, but the boy – "**

"**That is a direct order from your superior. Take the shoot."**

**Owen pulled the trigger.**

* * *

Owen bolted upright, breathing raggedly. He threw himself over the side of his bed, heaving his guts up. There wasn't much there, considering he hadn't eaten in a while.

_Good things. I need to think about good things. _Owen just had to figure out what the good things were.

The first thing that came to mind was Alex. He wasn't too surprised by that. She had been the only good thing since he'd gotten out of that Russian prison. She was keeping him sane, as much as he was keeping her from falling off the wagon. He didn't think she'd go down that road again, but he still wanted to be there for her. It still shocked him that she had agreed to let him move in with her, after he had been so heavy-handed. He'd practically commanded her into letting him stay, but it been because he was worried about her.

Owen then thought of Nikita and Michael.

At one stage, he'd been jealous of Nikita and Michael, but not because he wanted Nikita. He did care about her, she had shown him a better way to live and he would be forever grateful for that, but there was too much baggage between them for it to ever work romantically. He was jealous because he wanted what they had. He had felt it with Emily, but Division had killed her and it had left him feeling hollow. Nikita had helped him through that as well. She was a true friend. She and Michael deserved too be happy.

From then on he tried to keep the good thoughts in his head, hoping they'd keep the nightmares at bay. It was another day before the headache finally released him from its clutches.

By the time he got to Alex, he was barely holding himself up. The look on her face when he entered the apartment was a mixture of pain and relief, which quickly became concern as she enfolded him in her arms. Owen had never felt so relived in all his life. Then she'd crawled into his lap and his entire body just relaxed. All the pain, the confusion and hurtful memories fell away and he was surrounded by Alex. It had felt natural to slip his hands under her shirt, seeking skin to skin contact.

Then Sean had to come knocking on the door.

Owen had always being partial to letting his anger take the reins, especially when he felt it was justified. He'd been unprepared for the level of anger that had coursed through his body when he opened the door to find Sean Pierce, the former DEVGRU operator. Owen had done his research.

He had also meant it when he threatened to kill him if he hurt Alex again. The only reason she was even talking to him right now was because Owen couldn't seem to say no to her. He had stormed back to bed, striped down to his boxers and gotten into beds. He'd left his door slightly ajar, in case Alex needed him, so he got snatches of the conversation. Alex was angry; she had every right too be. But Owen could hear the sincerity in Sean's voice when he'd asked for a second chance.

It was torture to hear her cry. The only reason he hadn't gone to her was because he knew she would come to him if she needed comfort. And she had, even if she didn't know how to go about it. The last few times she's needed him, he'd been there to offer it, but asking for it was a new experience. He decided to let her off the hook; she'd made the effort to come into his room, even if she was finding it hard to say the words.

It was the day before they got the Kirsten Stand assignment that Sean and Owen came to an understanding. He'd gone to the gym in Division to work off some excess energy. Sean had arrived about ten minutes into his work out. Owen was doing sit-ups – he was on fifty – when he spotted Sean out the corner of his eye.

"What's going on with you and Alex?" Sean asked, getting straight to the point. Owen was glad for that; he wasn't in the mood for bullshit.

"I don't see how that's your business." Owen was baiting him on purpose. He wanted to see just how far Sean was willing to go to win Alex back.

"I'm her boyfriend," Sean said, his face hardening. "I think I have a right to know."

"You wouldn't need to ask me that if you knew Alex as well as you think."

Owen hopped to his feet and moved his neck from side to side, loosening the muscles. He walked over to the thread mill, the younger man following him.

"What are you trying to say?"

Owen turned around, looking Sean right in the eye. "I'm saying that I think you treated Alex poorly and I don't think you deserve her."

Sean lashed out, aiming a punch at Owen's face. Owen moved backward out-of-the-way, falling into a fighting stance. Sean followed suit, the two men squaring off. Owen took a kick to his ribs, wincing. He was going too be bruised tomorrow. He ducked down as Sean tried to punch him again, using a round house kick to sweep his feet out from under him. Sean was back on his feet in seconds; head down as he ran straight at Owen. He grabbed him around the waist carrying him across the room and into the wall. Owen lifted his elbow and brought in down hard on Sean's back, once, twice, three times. Sean let go and Owen popped him one in the side of his face. He punched him again the stomach, making sure to get him in the solar plexus, winding him. Owen used the opportunity to run at Sean and take him down to the floor. Crouching beside the former Oversight agent, Owen grabbed him by the throat, his fist raised to hit him again.

"Go ahead," Sean defiantly commanded, breathing hard. "You're nothing but a killer. You don't deserve her anymore than I do."

Owen narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening an inch, before he let go. He stood up and stuck his arm out. Sean eyed it suspiciously, but took it after a long minute. Owen pulled him to his feet; both men wearily watching the other.

"You're right, I don't deserve her," Owen agreed calmly. "I never will, but I _**am**_ her friend. And that means that I'm going too be in her life for as long as she lets me. You better get used to that if you intend on trying to win her back."

Sean nodded. "Fine, but that doesn't mean I have to like you."

Then they'd gotten the assignment and there roles were doled out. Sean had not been happy; still wasn't happy as Owen caught his eye from his seat in the corner with Alex. It seemed like a relatively straight forward mission, but appearances could be deceiving. There were a lot of unanswered questions about this Kristen Stand women and who she was. It was a hard on to call.

"We have eyes on a brunette entering the bar," Birkhoff spoke in their ear, over the comm. link. Three sets of eyes turned to the door, watching a tall, brunette woman walk in; a small, blond women walking in before her. They watched her look around the bar, but then she smiled and waved at a group of people in a booth and made her way toward them.

"Wasn't her, Birkhoff," Owen reported. He turned his head towards Alex and made it look like he was whispering sweet things in her ear. If he wasn't mistaken, Owen thought he felt her shiver. He nuzzled the side of her head, her hair soft against his cheek. She tilted her head slightly, causing his hand playing with her earring to graze the length of her neck. Owen heard her gasp and it made him act bolder; he dragged his lips along the shell of the ear he'd been neglecting. Alex's hand tightened on his knee and she turned to look at him, her eyes wide and innocent. Owen suddenly felt bad. He was taking advantage of the situation.

He meant what he said to Sean the other day. He was not good enough for her.

"Can I sit here?" Thankfully, Alex and Owen were pulled out of there daze by the sound of an unfamiliar voice. The blond women from before was taking a seat beside Sean, her voice coming through his microphone. Sean opened his mouth to tell her he was waiting for someone, but she started speaking again before he could speak. "I'm Kristen, Kristen Stand, and you are?"

Wasn't Kristen supposed too be tall and a brunette?


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you guys for being patient. I just went to college and well it's taking time out of my writing. This chapter took a while to write, anyway, because I wanted to get it as right as possible. Unfortunately that meant a tonne of re-writes and I'm still not sure if it's any good. Anyway, enough complaining.

Read on and let me know what you think.

And of course thanks to everybody who has read, reviewed, favorited and followed. You all rock.

**Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go, but rather learning to start over ~ Nicole Sobon**

**Alex:**

"Kristen Stand, huh? I'm Dillion." Sean offered his hand to the blond Kristen and she shook it. They'd agreed that Sean would use a fake name if approached by the suspect and that he would follow her lead.

"And what are you doing drinking all by your lonesome?" Kristen leaned toward Sean, a bright smile on her face. There was something off about it though. There was something too eager about it.

Alex wasn't basing that on the residual jealousy she was feeling, but before she could think on that further, Owen distracted her. He'd placed his hand on the inside of her thigh, squeezing lightly to get her attention and boy, did he. Her sole focus became the heat that Owen's hand had sent coursing through her body. It made something squirm low in her belly, made places in her body reawaken with a vengeance.

_It's only because you haven't had sex in a while. _Alex tried to convince herself of that, even as her heart beat accelerated and she started to ache. She stared down at his hand, unsure of whether she wanted him to take it away or move it higher. _Stop it, Alex. Owen is your friend. You can't let thoughts like that ruin what you have with him. You'll lose him if you let thoughts of romance and sex get in the way. Now, get your head back in the mission!_

"...is strange. She's supposed to be a brunette, right?" Owen was muttering in her ear, their bodies having partially molded together while she wasn't paying attention. Alex made herself ignore how good being close to her _**friend**_, made her feel. It wasn't like they hadn't been this close before, but each of those times one of them or ,had needed comfort.

That wasn't the case now.

"That's what her file said," Alex agreed, her voice husky from disuse and if she was being perfectly honest, arousal.

"Base, we have eyes on a Kristen Stand. But this woman is blond, not brunette. She approached Sean at the bar and he is engaging her in conversation. How should we play this?" Owen reported back, while Alex turned her attention back to Sean and Kristen. They seemed to be hitting it off, if Kristen's laugh was any indication.

"You don't sound British?" Sean was saying, taking a drink from his Jack Daniels and Coke, minus the Jack Daniels.

"That's because I'm originally from Kansas and please don't say it."

"Say what?" Sean asked, playing along. "What would I have to say about Kansas?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about and don't play dumb." Kristen playfully punched Sean in the arm. He made a face as if he'd seriously injured and the two of them laughed.

_Someone's getting their flirt on. _Alex was torn. On the one hand her feelings for Sean were still there and like she'd admitted to herself she was feeling some jealousy. _But maybe I'm just jealous of how easy it is for Sean to have such an easy relationship with someone he'd just meet? _Granted this was a mission and it wasn't like Sean was going to end up going home with this woman in the classical sense, but he seemed more at ease with Kristen than he'd ever been with Alex.

It felt he was always walking on eggshells around her; afraid of asking about her past or doing anything to make her feel uncomfortable. Not that she didn't appreciate Sean's obvious respect and concern for her past, but he treated her like she was a glass doll. That was exactly what had started the deterioration of their relationship. He wanted to protect her; that was fine, because she wanted to protect him. His version of protection was not the same as hers. Sean meant well, but making her quit Division just so he wouldn't have to worry, it made her feel like he didn't trust that she could take care of herself. But they could have worked on that, because he loved her and she had wanted to love him back...

_Had? Past tense? _

"Nikita said to let it play out, but to follow them if they got up to leave." Alex acknowledged Owen with a nod, her mind riling in turmoil. Her entire body was tense, her internal revelation manifesting itself psychically. She _**had**_ wanted to love him, but something had changed. She had changed.

Alex had one knee-jerk reaction when it came too overwhelming emotions; deal with them on her own. That meant anything from locking them down to self-medicating; then Owen came along. It hadn't been the type of situation where she started talking about her problems and they all suddenly disappeared, because there was no such thing as a quick-fix scheme. Not if you wanted to truly get better and Alex wanted that.

Owen made that possible, because he didn't shy away from the nastier parts of her personality, and her past. He let her talk, or not talk, if that's what she needed. Nikita was the mother she never had and like every child, Alex was afraid of disappointing her. Her inner demons feed on this, whittling away at her self-confidence. The whispered the same thing over and over. _If you're not good enough, strong enough, she'll leave you too. Just like your biological mother did. _On an instinctual level Alex knew Nikita was nothing like that, knew she'd never leave.

But there was something about having chosen to let Owen in of her own accord. Nikita had saved and mentored her, Michael had trained her and Birkhoff was like an annoying older brother. They were the family that had been thrust upon her, but she loved every damn one of them. Owen was the first person that she'd allowed to be her friend. She hadn't even let Sean do that.

A friend to Alex was someone she could talk to about her personal problems without feeling ashamed or guilty. In her head, from what she'd observed, a proper friendship equated a level of sharing that she hadn't been entirely comfortable with. It was all well and good for Alex to share with Nikita or the others, because that what families did. Letting Owen into her life had been a huge emotional gamble. It was paying off so far.

"What's wrong, Alex?" Owen had obviously become aware of her body language. He didn't look at her, they were supposed too be watching Sean, but she could feel his concern.

"I was just thinking about the difference about family and friends," she answered as honestly as possible. She didn't want to confess how much she'd started to depend on Owen's friendship. She didn't want to scare him away. "Owen I wanted to tell you how much..." Sean and Kristen stood, causing Owen and Alex to refocus on their conversation.

"I only live about ten minutes away, so we can walk," Kristen was saying, while Sean helped her back into her coat.

"Sounds good," Sean agreed, as they made their way through the pub towards the door. Owen stood to follow, offering his hand out to Alex. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He didn't drop her hand, but intertwined their fingers. _His just staying in character. Just ignore the tingles._

"Base, target is on the move with Sean. Heading to the woman's apartment. Will follow at a safe distance." Alex relayed the information, as Owen deftly manoeuvred them around the chairs, tables and people. They were about thirty seconds behind the other couple, their eyes glued to their back. As they watched Kristen grabbed the lapels of Sean's collar and pulled him into an alleyway, a short distance from the pub. Alex and Owen followed discreetly, stopping at the corner. Owen leaned against the rough wall.

"Oof." Alex barely contained her surprise as Owen suddenly dragged her up against his body so they were pressed together, chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh, his hands on her waist. He was taller than her, so she had to crane her neck to look up at him. "What are you doing?" Alex's voice came out sounding way to breathless. Owen's head lowered towards hers. Alex had split-second vision of Owen pressing his lips against her, before his cheek grazed hers, his stubble rough against her skin.

"Look around the corner and see what there doing?" Alex told herself to stop fixating on her relationships with Sean and Owen and worry about it later. She did as she was told and saw Kristen and Sean making out like teenagers. Alex expected to feel some big emotion at the sight of her ex-boyfriend kissing another woman, but again Owen's nearness was making it hard for her to work up any emotional response to the scene unfolding in front of her. "What's happening?"

"There... Wait." Alex watched Kristen's hands move under Sean's coat and suddenly she was pushing him away, a gun in her hand. "She just pulled a gun on Sean."

Owen tensed and pulled out his own gun. Alex followed suit, her eyes trained on Sean. _If that bitch hurts him! _Alex might have figured out that what she and Sean had was more or less over, but that didn't mean she didn't care about him.

"Walking around armed Sean? This isn't America remember. You're not supposed to have a gun on your person. Naughty boy." Kristen wagged the gun at Sean, further demonstrating her point.

"Kristen what are you doing? Give me back my gun." Sean spoke calmly, his hands held out by his sides.

"So who do you work for? FBI? CIA? Special Ops? Navy? Division?"

"We have a situation, base," Owen reported, while Alex kept watch. "Kristen has Sean at gunpoint. We're going to intercede and capture."

"What's the plan?" Alex knew he had one from the look on his face. He put his gun away and nodded for her to do the same.

"We're just going to continue to act like a couple."

Owen laughter loudly and threw his arm around Alex's shoulder moving her around the corner with his body. "Honey, my mother is not going to hate you. She'll love you."

Alex grinned up at Owen, watching Kristen out of the corner of her eye. The woman had pulled Sean towards her and sandwiched the gun between them, trying to hide it. Bad move on her part. "That's easy for you to say. You're not meeting her are you?"

Almost there.

Five more steps.

Alex moved from under Owen's arm and moved to walk backwards. "Besides you've already charmed my mother and the pressure is all on me now."

Alex pouted and just when she stepped past Sean, she made her move. Grabbing Sean by the back of the jacket, she yanked him backwards and down to avoid any bullets if the gun with off. Owen had his .45 out and pointed at Kristen's head before she could even blink.

"Drop the gun, Kristen." Owen's tone left no room for argument, but she just sneered at him.

"Why should I? If your Division your just going to kill me anyway." By this time, both Alex and Sean had straightened and Sean was holding Alex's gun. He'd pulled from her jeans without her permission and she was now defenceless. Sean was standing in front of her like a barrier, but she would have much preferred her gun, but now was not the time to argue.

"How do you know about Division?" Sean asked, pointing Alex's gun at her head.

"How do you know about Division?" Kristen shot back, her finger reflexively grasping and un-grasping the trigger. Sean's gun was hanging by her side, but even with two guns, aimed at her, there was no fear on her face.

Owen had moved so that he was part of the 'protect Alex' barrier, but Alex was pretty sure that it was so he had a better vantage point. It was what she would have done. Alex tried to move so that she would be out of Kristen's sight if the woman to get trigger happy, but Sean kept following her movements. Owen shot him a look, but Sean ignored him. He couldn't tell Sean to stop or that would draw attention to her presence and that she was the obvious weak-link, having no weapon.

"Listen Kristen, we're here to ask some questions that's all?" Sean spoke softly, trying to calm her with his voice. "We just want to know if you were ever part of Division?"

Alex saw Owen discreetly call for back-up while Kristen was distracted by Sean.

"Why should I answer any of your questions? You won't answer any of fine!"

"We're not here to hurt you, ok? We, really, just want to talk." Sean took a step closer.

"I only know about Division, because I was sent there to oversee it, but it has been shut down since and a new Division has sprung up. They don't kill rouge agents anymore, so if that's what you are, your safe. We won't hurt you."

Kristen raised her gun, a fierce look in her eyes. "Then why are you pointing guns in my face?"

A scream at the end of the alleyway had them all turning their heads. _Oh, great. The last thing we need to add to this bag of crazy is civilians. _Alex turned back in time to see Sean lunge forward to grab Kristen's gun hand, turning sideways so that he could avoid the it, leaving Alex wide open.

Kristen and Sean struggled and the gun went off.

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

Alex fell backwards, her head crashing against the concrete. The wind was knocked out of her when heavy body followed her down, covering her like a blanket. It took a few seconds for Alex to reorient herself, but when she did, she cried out in fear.

"Owen?! Owen?! Owen!" The stupid man had jumped in front of the bullet meant for her. Alex would kill him, if he was dead. She was tugging at the scarf he'd wrapped around his neck trying to feel for a pulse. "Owen, answer me!"

Alex distantly heard tires screech, but Owen's groan was the only noise that truly registered with her. "Ugh, that hurt." She half-laughed, half-cried with relief, wrapping her arms around Owen's waist.

"We'd it get you? And how many bullets?" Alex rested her head back against the concrete not caring about dirt at this stage.

"One. The back of the shoulder," he said, groaning again. He shifted his head, so that it was pressed against Alex's neck. "First an explosion and now a bullet? I'm glad you think scars are sexy, because this ones going to be pretty." Alex choked back a laugh, tears slipping out the corner of her eyes. She patted around his shoulders until she felt the place where he'd been shot and applied pressure with the palm of her hand. The judicatory of their position was making it difficult to apply a great amount of pressure, but at least she felt like she was helping. The pain must have made him start acting crazy or maybe Alex's head injury must have been worse than she thought and she was imaging the whole thing, because Owen stared placing soft, butterfly kisses up and down the side of her neck. The hand she had around his waist fisted in his jacket, pleasure gently pulsating through her body, but then she remembered where they were. She also remembered the promise she'd made to herself in the pub.

Friends. He was her friend and she never wanted to lose him.

Luckily she was saved from having to tell him to stop by Nikita. "Owen, are you trying to smother Alex? Because it looks like you're doing a pretty good job."

"I've been shot and I shouldn't be moved until the proper medical authority arrive." He was right, because the wound seemed to be very close to his spine and Alex didn't want him too be moved unnecessarily. Owen snuggled closer to Alex, if that wasn't even possible considering he was on top of her. Strange thing was, Alex wasn't finding it as suffocating as she'd originally thought it would be to have a man's weight pressed down on her. Because of her past, she always had to be on top during sex. Being underneath just brought up old memories, made her feel claustrophobic and anxious. But maybe it had more to do with the man that was currently using her as a bed?

"Nikita, help me get his scarf off, so you can press it on the wound," Alex asked, gently tugging at the material herself. She'd already loosened it while trying to find his pulse, so Nikita had no trouble freeing it. She placed the scarf on Owen's wound and Alex replace Nikita's hand with her own.

"Where's Sean and Kristen?" Alex asked, moving on to her next question. She'd found it odd that Sean hadn't checked on either of them after the gun had gone off three times.

"We arrived just in time to see you two go down and Sean subdue Kristen. He wanted to come check on you, but I told him to get Kristen squared away in the back of the van. She's putting up quite a fight."

Owen harrumphed from his position on Alex. "Late to the party, Nikki, shame on you. You missed my impressive tackle."

"While I am grateful for the life saving, my head does not talk you for that tackle, by the way," Alex complained. She would more than likely had a concussion, but it was only a small price to pay in the long run.

"Aw poor baby, did I hurt your head?" Alex wasn't sure if Owen was mocking her or not, but his un-injured arm moved up and he was cupping the back of her head, feeling for any lumps.

"You know you could take this more seriously. You've just been shot." Alex tried to chastise him, but of course Owen ignored her.

"Serious is for Michael. We all know I'm the playful one, not afraid to speak his mind."

"I resent that," Michael chipped in, having joined Nikita. "I'm not always serious."

"Oh honey, I know that," Nikita purred, her voice heavy with suggestion. Alex laughed and turned her head away from the mushiness of Michael and Nikita giving them some semblance of privacy.

"Medical will be here in five and I've handled the crowd. This a robbery gone wrong, but we've captured the culprits. I told them to all go home." Michael was the best when it came to strategies on handling anything and everything. He thought outside the box, always a step ahead of everyone else.

By the time medical got here, Owen had become drowsy. He was slurring his words when he did speak and Alex was never so grateful to see a black van. They decked it out like an ambulance, using it for emergencies like this. She was also grateful that Nikita had insisted on bringing a small medical team with them and she was almost positive it had to do with her shoulder injury in the first place. Nikita was the best person she knew, always trying to help in any way she could.

* * *

They were back in the hotel, medical having taken care of Owen's shoulder in the van. It had missed his spine by two and half inches, thank God, but they had to remove the bullet from between his shoulder-blade and his spine. He was one lucky man. Owen grumbled something in his sleep. Alex leapt out of the chair she'd been sitting on, keeping a silent vigil over his bed. She sat on the edge of his bed,running her fingers through his hair. "Owen? Owen, can you hear me?" No answer, but his continued breathing was enough.

Alex head injury wasn't as bad as she had thought. Medical told her she probably had a mild concussion, but just to watch out for dizzy spells and nausea. Owen grumbled something in his sleep again, but his eyes remained shut. He was lying on his stomach, his back and some of his torso wrapped up in bandages. Alex ghosted her fingers over his wound, tears welling in her eyes. _Oh God, what if he had died? Or she'd gotten his spine? All just to save her, again. _There was a knock at the door. Alex wanted to ignore it, but she was afraid that the knocking would wake him.

"What do you want, Sean?" Alex grabbed a set of keys off the side table beside the door and stepped out into the hall, gently closing the door behind her. She had a feeling that she and Sean were about to get into it and she didn't want to disturb Owen.

"I wanted to say how sorry I was," Sean began, his face scrunched up in remorse. "I didn't mean for you to get shot at."

_He didn't mean for me to get shot at? What about Owen? Why wasn't he asking about Owen?_

Alex folded her arms and took a step back from Sean, showing him physically that the distance between them was growing. "What about Owen?"

"His fine, isn't he. No harm, no foul. I'm glad he jumped in front of that bullet to save you. I would have done the same thing."

Alex took a deep breath. She was on the verge of losing it with him. He didn't care that Owen was hurt because of him. Because of her.

"He could have died."

Alex couldn't let it go.

"And you could have too. I'm so sorry I left you open to an attack like that. I thought I could get the gun away from her before she could pull the trigger." Sean took a step forward, Alex stepped back. "I mean Alex, this should show how dangerous it is to continue on in Division."

Alex closed her eyes against the pain that washed through her. He was really going to use this as another way of proving his point. She knew he didn't realise exactly what it was he was saying or how much hurt it was causing her, because he thought he was right. He thought he knew what was best for her, because he loved her. "You really don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"That every time you say something like that it eats away at my confidence, at my ability to be a good agent. I'm not doing this for kicks, Sean. This is my life. It's the only real life that I've ever known. It's important to me. And, however unintentional, you keep belittling that. You make it out that I shouldn't be out there risking my life, but it's ok that Owen got shot. Because that's the job. What you really want is someone nice and normal girlfriend with no problems. Someone who has no connection to this crazy life we lead. And I am not her. I can't stay at home while you go out and fight the bad guys. I would worry myself sick and then I'd probably resort to taking pills to keep myself calm." Alex was shocked at her own honesty. But there it was, the ugly truth rearing its head. "I... I need purpose. I need someone who will let be me, even if that means supporting me going out there doing dangerous work. Because right now, that's what I want. It helps me keep my demons at bay, until I can find another way to do it."

Sean was staring at her, his expression a fixture of pain, sadness and confusion. "Where does that leave us?"

Tears welled in her eyes. She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't, but this was the only way. "You deserve someone who can be your normal. You deserve a girl who is can wait at home without worrying that she's going to break. I can't be her, Sean. As much as I care about you, I can't be that girl."

"Alex, I..."

"I'm sorry Sean, I, we, can't do this anymore." Alex shook her head, when Sean reached a hand out towards her. "Please Sean. I want you too be happy."

"Sean we need you," Michael called from down the hall. Alex quickly wiped at her eyes and turned to walk back into Owen's room.

"This isn't over, Alex," Sean caught her with those words, before she could escape into the room.

It **was** over. He just didn't know it yet.

Leaning back against the door, Alex scrubbed at her face. She felt raw and exposed, her emotions twisting into one big ball of sickness in her stomach. How much more was she going to have to take before her life settled down? Straightening Alex wandered back into the room to check on Owen. He was still sleeping, the drugs medical had given him keeping him sedated so he didn't move around too much and strain the stitches. She stood at the side of his bed, watching his back rise and fall.

"We're not in Kansas anymore," Owen muttered in his sleep.

Alex smiled, feeling the first stirring of something other than friendship. She quickly squashed it down. This was not the time for that. She had to get her life together, before she could even begin to consider letting somebody in romantically.

_No, we're not in Kansas anymore_, she silently agreed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Did anyone else think the back and forth between Owen and Sean was hilarious? Or that Owen is so awkward around women? I have to say it kind of made up for the lack of Owen/Alex scenes****. But just a little.**

**I kind of hope this chapter helps tide fans like me over.**

**Now guys I just want you to please remember this is my first foray into fanfiction while you read this chapter.**

**Okay then, here you go.**

**And of course, thank you everyone for reading etc. this fic. Your all awesome.**

**Nikita:**

"Is there something going on between those two?" Michael whispered in Nikita ear, turning towards her. They were both looking down at Alex and Owen, the latter using the former as his mattress. Owen's wound was close to his spine, but it didn't look like it would still be ok to remove. They'd have to wait for medical and Nikita was extremely glade she'd insisted on bringing a small team. In all honesty, she'd expected a fight to break out between Owen and Sean or for Alex's shoulder to plague her, before anyone got shot. But that was the job. As unpredictable, as it was dangerous.

"Their friends," Nikita whispered back, thoughtfully. "Or something."

Nikita wasn't surprised that Owen and Alex had grown so close; what did surprise her was how fast it had occurred. But then living in close quarters coupled with the high level of value, both Alex and Owen, placed on friendship, Nikita could see where it could go. That is if, both or one of them didn't sabotage it. They had a history of closing themselves off and pushing people away when times got hard and Nikita prayed that they wouldn't do it to each other.

"Or something, is more accurate," Michael commented. "But the road there on is a bumpy one. I just don't want to see Alex get hurt."

Nikita shook her head, while rolling her eyes. _Every single time. It's like Owen doesn't even count. _Nikita understood that Michael thought Owen had a crush on her, but it wasn't anything as simple as that. She had been there when Emily died and she had given him a purpose when he needed it. The same could be said of now. But she'd also been Owen's first real friend and because of that he held her in a high regard, that to everyone else would seem like a teenage crush. It was just that Owen didn't know how to interact with people, he was used to being alone. So when he found someone he cared about, he'd do anything and everything for that person. Nikita was only his friend, she couldn't imagine what he'd do for the women he fell in love with. Owen and Alex's That made his obvious growing attachment to Alex that bit more astonishing. It had taken Nikita much longer to break past his defences. Not to mention Alex's too. As a result Nikita was fascinated by how quickly they had bonded. "And Owen?"

Michael sighed, acting put out. "Yeah. Him too," he paused, "I suppose."

Nikita shot him a look that told him he was being unreasonable, but the heavy dose of affection and love she couldn't hide, ruined the effect. "Michael, you're the worst." He just shrugged, the corner of his mouth turning up. "I **_hope_** they both don't get hurt. But as we know all too well, life isn't easy and those two have a tonne of baggage each. But then so did we and look how we turned out. All cute and cuddly."

"Cute and cuddly? Really?" Michael eyed Nikita sceptically. "Out of all the words you could have chosen, those two came to mind?"

"Well, honey, all that fighting we did in the past was just rough foreplay," Nikita supplied, eyes shining. "Don't get me wrong, I love foreplay, but a girl can only take so much before she explodes. And now we get to be cute and cuddly after we have our fun." Nikita's tongue curled around the word fun and Michael's mouth was practically on hers before Alex's laugh interrupted them, bringing the engaged couples gaze back down to the vertically challenged pair.

"Care to share, Alex?" Michael asked, using his best teacher voice. He was not happy being caught being unprofessional. Nikita smiled to herself, pressing more closely against his side. He automatically tightened his arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head. They'd been blocked from public view ten minutes ago by their vans. They didn't need their faces been spread all over the news.

"Ah, well, Owen was just saying that even your whispered conversations sound lovey dovey," Alex answered reluctantly, her voice giving away how close she was to laughter once again, as Owen grumbled something else at her. "He also says that he thinks you two should get a room. Preferably far away from his. Now, can we please stop talking about my Michael and Nikita's, uhm, extracurricular activities and concentrate on the bullet wound in Owen's back."

Owen grumbled something again drawing Alex's attention back to him, as she ran a soothing hand through his hair.

Michael raised his eyebrow at Nikita, a small smirk gracing his face. "I can't actually say that that's a bad idea," he agreed, again whispering in Nikita's ear.

Nikita smiled up at him, straightening his already straight tie. "Later, I promise." A commotion down by the entrance to the ally made Nikita glance in that direction. "Looks like Medical is here. Let's get out of here."

* * *

"Let me go! Let me go! I'll kill you for this!"

"That's basically what's she being screaming through her gag since she came too," Sean informed Michael and Nikita, his back to the women he was referring too, his voice low so she couldn't hear them. Kristen had been putting up such a struggle that they had to get one of the medic's to give her a sedative. Nikita was contemplating giving her another one. "We need her to calm the hell down or someone will hear."

"We bought out the entire floor and the ones above and below, so noise shouldn't be a problem," Michael explained, frowning. "With Owen injured we can't risk moving for at least twenty-four hours."

At the mention of Owen's name Sean's entire body tensed and he looked like he wanted to punch something. Nikita watched several emotions cross Sean's face before he got himself back under control. The complications of the heart, Nikita thought, her heart going out to the man who had done so much for Alex. But he had made a bad call, leaving the way he had. He might have had his reasons, but Alex was not the type of girl you left. She was the kind you fought for tooth and nail, because she could put up a wall with it came to her emotions like nobody else could. Well, except maybe Owen, but at least he let his anger out. Alex completely boxed and that was not healthy.

"Right," Sean nodded. "So his going to be fine?"

Sean's tone implied that he wanted to hear otherwise and Nikita didn't like that. "Whatever your differences Sean, Owen does not deserve to die. You can personally hate him all you like, but out on the field you have to work as a team."

Sean took a deep breath, his brows pulled together, his gaze frustrated. "Your right, I know that, but at the same time I just want too..."

Nikita nodded. Sean was jealous; plain and simple. It was messing with his head, but he was a good guy. He and Alex could have been good together, but right now everything was too messed up. Alex needed to figure herself out and having a man distract her was the not the best course of action. At the moment, Owen was keeping everything strictly platonic between them and Nikita appreciated that. Then again on the other hand, as far as Nikita could tell, Owen had never really been in a serious relationship or really even **_in_** love. Yes, he had loved Emily, but Nikita thought that it was more the idea of her. She represented something he was missing. Something he never thought he'd have. If Owen did have feelings for Alex on a more intimate level, he probably didn't know what to do with them. If he'd even acknowledged they were there in the first place.

Sean rubbed the back his head and gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Anyway how did you guys manage to book-up three floors?"

_Ah, the not so subtle subject change. _"Well, Alexandra Uninov needs her privacy. And the billionaire Princess wants, the billionaire Princess gets."

Sean nodded and turned his attention back to the blond, still struggling against her restraints. "What are we going to do about her?"

"I don't know about you boys, but sometimes I just like a good girl talk." Nikita folded her hands and tilted her head to the side. Michael took his future wives hint and gestured at Sean to follow him out of the room.

"I don't know about you, Kristen, but I never like it when I'm gagged. It makes it hard to get my witty nature across to my captures." Nikita moved toward Kristen, who was handcuffed to the bedpost. "Now if you want to have a mature conversation where we can air our issues, I can take your gag off. I'll take your silence as an agreement."

Nikita waited while Kristen continued to struggle and shout, keeping eye contact the entire time. It took five minutes, but Kristen eventually quieted and stilled.

"That's better. Now, I'm going to remove your gag. If your good and answer my questions, I might answer yours," Nikita smiled. She approached Kristen slowly. The women might be acting demure just get Nikita to let her guard down.

"Good," Nikita said, when she removed the gag without any trouble. She expected her to start screaming, but nothing. "So what was your role in Division?"

"My role in Division?" Kristen repeated, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Why would I ever want to be associated with that cesspool?"

"Cesspool? Huh," Nikita pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Never heard it described like that before."

"Yeah?" Kristen sniggered, her face the picture of disgust. "I'm surprised. From what I heard the place was like hell on earth."

"Heard? Heard where?" Kristen shook her head and refused to answer. "Alright, I'll start then. Division is no longer a cesspool. We're trying to rectify the mistakes of our past. We want to shut the place down, but it's going to take time." Nikita felt as if she was repeatedly saying the same thing over and over again. "Now that Percy's gone..."

"Wait! Wait! Percy's gone?" Kristen sat forward. "Gone, as in dead?"

Nikita's eyebrows pulled together and she nodded her head. "His dead."

"But then, where is Kristen?" Nikita was confused by the other woman's behaviour. Her excitement at Percy's death, her reference to herself in third person. She'd muttered the last sentence to herself without realising. Nikita was putting two and two together and getting an extreme headache.

"You aren't Kristen, are you?"

Kristen shook her head. "Who are you?"

"I'm Nikita," Nikita answered. She had a feeling, honesty - or as much honesty as possible - was the best policy here.

"The Nikita who escaped Division?" This was getting stranger by the moment and Nikita wasn't sure what the hell was going on. She did not like that.

"The very one," Nikita said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Now, I've answered your questions. It's your turn to answer my questions. Who are you?"

Kristen shifted on the bed, her cuffs clanking against the bedpost. "My name is Avery and my sister Kristen was part of Division. She disappeared six months ago."

* * *

Nikita stood in the hallway conferring with Michael. "She says she's a cop and that her sister, Kristen, came to her over a year ago. Avery thought she was dead, killed in a gang related shooting. A case of wrong time, wrong place. You can imagine Avery's surprise when Kristen showed up alive. Kristen spilled everything about Division and Avery had been searching for us since. She thought we took her sister."

"A gang related shooting?" Michael interrupted, hands on his waist. "That doesn't exactly fit Division M.O."

"No," Nikita agreed. "But Percy wasn't exactly a by-the-book kind of guy. Avery said that her sister didn't like to talk about what she had to do, but she heard her saying the name 'Samuel' and 'hurt' in her sleep. She also said she acted like someone with PTSD."

"That's common enough in our line of work. But we can get Birkhoff look it up when we get back to base." Nikita nodded and Michael rubbed her shoulder. "Oh, Ethan from Medical was looking for you. It was something about the drug they gave Owen. I'll go get Sean and we'll look after Avery."  
Nikita smiled her thanks and went to find Ethan. He and the rest of the medical team were just down the hall. She knocked on room 410 and waited for an answer.

"Nikita. Hey," Ethan pulled the door and gestured her inside.

"Hey," Nikita replied, crossing the threshold. "Michael said you wanted to tell me something about the drug you gave Owen."

"The drug we gave to Owen is experimental," Ethan began, offering Nikita a bottle of water from the minibar. Nikita shook her head and Ethan opened the bottle for himself. "From the time he was injured before we know that he is a very restless sleeper. He pulled his stitches on two separate occasions. We tired out a few different sedatives, before finally deciding on trying one that we've had in development for a while. There is no bad side effects per say, but the person may experience some poor impulse control, especially for the first hour or two and they are likely fall back to sleep again, waking with no memory of what they've done. I was looking for you earlier, but Sean said you were in the middle of something. With the dose we gave him he shouldn't wake for another few hours. But he showed no symptoms before, I just thought it was better that you know."

Nikita phone rang before she could reply and Birkhoff's name flashed across her screen. "I got to take this," she smiled apologetically. "Thanks Ethan. I'll let Alex know. She's the one looking after him."

"Anytime boss."

Nikita left the room, punching the answer button on her phone. "Hey nerd."

"Hey Nikki. How's Owen?"

"His alright. Knocked out, but he'll be as good as new in no time."

"Back to wrestling bears," Birkhoff chuckled to himself. "You know that would be fun to watch."

Nikita smiled fondly. She did have a major soft spot for that man. "Is that why your calling? To tell me that you want to set up a fight between Owen and a bear?"

"If only it was," Birkhoff sighed over the phone and Nikita felt her spidey senses tingle. "Nikki, when you get back there's something we need to talk about."

* * *

**Alex:**

Alex was asleep in a chair by the side of Owen's bed. She'd originally planned to lie down beside him, but then she'd started thinking about the friends thing. Sure, friends could lie in the same bed and it would be easy, normal, friendly. Alex wasn't sure why, but in the last few hours her feelings for Owen had become too confusing to say that she outright thought of him as a friend and nothing else.

She knew she wanted to be near him, wanted to lie down beside him. But she also knew that the thought of his hands on his skin weren't bringing up comforting thoughts as they usually did. Now when she thought of his rough fingers finding their way under her t-shirt, her breathing accelerated, a slow burn started low in her belly spreading outwards, her heart constricted and so did other places. She tried to stop thinking like that. She really did, but then she'd remember how it felt to be pressed up against his hard body and she'd have to clench her thighs together to stop herself from doing something stupid.

Owen was starting to mumble and move around, but his eyes were still closed. Alex assumed he was just dreaming, being used to the sound of nightmares as she was, and got up to get a drink. Before she'd made it halfway out of the chair, Owen's hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. She found herself face down on the floor, her hand pulled up behind her back, straddled by a large man.

Alex didn't dare move. She wasn't sure what was causing Owen to act like this, but she sure as hell knew that she had to remain calm. After all, his head was just as messed up as hers and that could manifest itself in any number of ways. She waited a few minutes and when Owen didn't make any move to tighten his hold or hurt her, Alex allowed her body to relax underneath him. It seemed like the right thing to do as he realised her restrained hand. Alex placed it above her head, along with the other one. She wanted to show him that she meant no harm. If it was a nightmare that had gotten ahold of him, it was better she not react unless she absolutely had too.

Alex's breath caught and thoughts of nightmares flew out the window, when the hands she'd been imagining on her body only moments ago, did in fact slip under her t-shirt. Very slowly, almost methodically, Owen began pushing Alex's t-shirt up, his palms resting on either side of her spine, his fingers on her sides so they glided up along her back, with each inch of skin he exposed. Alex broke out in goose-pimples, a combination of the cold air and the heat Owen was giving off causing her insides to turn to mush. She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her when he brushed against the sides of her breasts, his fingers now curling around the straps of her bra, his knuckles dragging against her shoulder blades, as he continued pushed her t-shirt up.

Alex closed her eyes, waves of sensation running through her body. She couldn't believe how turned on this was making her. She couldn't believe she hadn't stopped it yet. Her t-shirt was now bunched up around her shoulders and neck, her bare stomach exposed to the cool wooden floor. She was breathing hard, but she almost jumped out of her skin when she felt Owen's warm breathe on the place she'd tattooed her butterfly. Her mind shut down. She couldn't think, didn't want to think. She just wanted to feel.

Owen brushed a light kiss in the centre of her tattoo, before tracing the outline with mouth and teeth. By this stage Alex was well and truly wound up. She'd been fantasiszing about Owen for the last two or three hours, her nipples were hard, her centre ached and it was all she could do not to start moving against the floor to relieve some of the pressure that was building. _I have to stop this. It's ridiculous. All his doing is...Worshiping my tattoo...Oh God!_ Owen had undone the clasp of her bra, his lips now moving along the length of her spine. Alex moaned softly. She felt, rather than heard Owen's groan of approval and suddenly his right hand was on top of hers, their fingers interlocking. He continued levelling kisses all over her back, sometimes biting, sometimes licking, sometimes sucking. It was only when Owen's left hand circled round the side her waist and stopped, his nails scraping gently against the skin underneath her leggings, that he finally stilled enough for Alex to catch her breath. Her mind was fogged over with lust, her insides quivering. She was on the verge, all it would take was one little touch from him and she'd be gone. His sneaky hand moved another two inches and it was just under the band of her panties.

Alex pressed her forehead against the floor. What the hell am I doing? What are we doing? But she didn't protest, didn't tell him to stop. He was giving her the time to back out, but she couldn't. Not even if she wanted too. Owen continued his journey downward, through her curls, but he didn't touch her straight away. Instead, he circled the bundle of nerves, begging for his attention, with his index finger, drawing long, low moans from Alex. _Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!_

Alex's hand fisted around Owen's as he drew her higher and higher. Her back arched and she felt the evidence of Owen's own arousal against her butt cheeks.

"Owen, please," Alex begged, the first words she'd uttered to him since the alleyway. He must have heard the desperation in her voice, because finally, finally, he touched her. He firmly pressed his finger against her clit, moving it slowly back and forth, up and down, back and fourth, up and down. Alex barely contained the scream that wanted to explode from her body, her muscles locking up. So close! So very close! Owen bit down on the skin above her butterfly and he rubbed her vigorously at the same time and she fell apart in his arms. It felt like lightning was coursing through her, shock-waves of pleasures shaking her body as she came back to earth.

And then Owen fell.

One second he was still kissing the bite mark he'd given her and the next he was slumped over, eyes closed. Alex pushed herself to her knees, panic invading her brain. She felt for a pulse and upon finding one, she fell back on her knees. Oh thank God! Alex was bone tried, her body feeling overused, but content too. Knowing she wouldn't be able to put him back in the bed herself, Alex pulled the blanket from the bed and draped it across him. She tired not to look at his still straining erection, but she couldn't help a quick glance. It had felt impressive enough against her butt cheeks, but now she could see that Owen was very impressive indeed. Blushing, Alex made herself stand. It was only then she remembered her t-shirt was still up around her chest and her bra was undone.

Alex clipped her bra back into place and adjusted her t-shirt. She could feel the dampness between her legs, her face heating up all over again. Refusing to think about it right now, she grabbed her bag and headed to the bathroom. She needed to freshen up and a shower sounded like heaven right now. She pulled off her clothes and tossed them in a pile by the door. She stepped into the shower and quickly washed her hair and body. She was careful of her back, some of Owen's other bites had left marks too. Alex shivered when she thought about it. Normally, being marked wasn't her thing, she wasn't a piece of property to be tagged and owned, but with Owen it was different. Different how, she couldn't explain, but he hadn't marked her anywhere that she couldn't cover up. It wasn't on display for everyone to see. It was something that was meant for her and her alone.

Alex was pulling on the hotel nightgown over her pyjama when she heard a knock at the door. Grabbing her gun, she slowly crept toward peep hole. Yes, the entire floor was theirs, but that didn't mean they could let down their guard.

"Alex? It's Nikita."

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. Nikita sounded normal and she hadn't used any of their code words for danger, so she put the gun on the side table and opened the door.

"How's the patient?" Alex felt her cheeks go red and silently cursed herself. Nikita didn't know what had transpired so there was no need for Alex to be blushing like a school girl. Her only hope was that Nikita was assume that it was from the heat of the shower as evidenced by her dripping wet hair.

"His okay," Alex answered. "Kind of restless."

"Ethan said that Owen was a restless sleeper." Alex threw a confused look in Nikita direction. "The time that Owen was stabbed by Ari, Medical had to give him an experimental drug to keep him from moving to much. His probably built up a tolerance to all the other sedatives thanks to Amanda, but the one they gave him can lead to poor impulse control upon waking and then memory loss of the event afterwards. Ethan thought we should know, but he thinks Owen will be down for another few hours. So just keep an eye on him."

Nikita had no idea that she's just thrown Alex for a loop. And how could she? It wasn't like Alex could tell her that, not only had Owen suffered the side effects, but that he'd given her a mind blowing orgasm as a result. This could not be happening.

Drawing on years of experience, Alex forced herself to compartmentalise. First she had to finish this conversation with Nikita and then she could go freak out in the room. "I will. I was just going to dry my hair and sleep on the couch. I don't want to leave him on his own."

Nikita nodded her approval and gave Alex a quick hug. "Goodnight then. I'll see you in the morning."

Alex forced a smile and watched Nikita disappear down the hall. She the very carefully shut the door and collapsed against it. She felt like she'd been run over with a truck. _Poor impulse control? Memory loss? He won't remember anything. _Alex walked over to the man in question, without having consciously thought about it. She stared down at his sleeping face, her mind in shambles.

Owen bolted upright, his eyes wild. "Alex! Alex?!" Alex almost jumped out of her skin for the second time in the last hour, bewilderment and concern at his fearful exclamation of her name sending her to his side.

"I'm here. Owen, I'm here." She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her.

"Wh...What is...Alex?" Owen voice was slurred from the drugs, his pupils dilated. He had no idea what was going on.

"Shhh, Owen," Alex soothed, rubbing her thumb over the creases in his forehead. "It's okay. We just need to get you back in bed." Alex helped him to his feet and over to the bed. His movements were sluggish and he collapsed as soon as he touched it. Alex stood at the edge of the mattress thinking. She could sleep on the couch or she could take this last chance to be close to Owen. Because after tonight, she knew that any physical closeness between them, especially in a bed would cause her hormones and heart to spiral out of control.

Alex was in this on her own; there was no other way. She couldn't tell Owen what happened between them. What if he saw it as a mistake? What if he only wanted to be friends? Alex wasn't even sure what she wanted and telling him would just make everything more complicated. They had enough to deal with in their lives without adding this to the mix. The only thing that was making sense right now was to forget the whole thing. Forgetting was another thing Alex had a lot of experience with.

_I'm being too emotional about this. He won't remember, so I can pretend it never happened. We can just go back to normal. We can be friends._

_This was just a dream._


	14. Chapter 14

Okay, guys I have to apologise for my absence but I have some personal stuff going on that doesn't seem to be letting up any time soon so I can't say that I'll be able to update consistently, but I'll definitely try.

In the mean time, I'm so grateful to everyone who read, favourited, followed and patiently waited for this chapter.

Hope you like :)

**Owen**:

**Owen could hear shots been fired. He could feel the bullets enter his body as if he was the one being shot, not Emily. He was frozen in place, unable to do anything. Unable to move. Unable to think past the intense pain that seized him as he watch Emily fall to the ground. Fear and anguish invading his body at the sight of Emily slowly bleeding to death. The life was leeched from her as her blood slowly seeped onto the floor, her accusing eyes staring at him. You would think that her blood would fight to stay in the body that had housed it for so long. But no. It longer for escape from it confides if the the speed at which it freely flew was any indication.**

**Then suddenly the nightmare changed and right before his eyes Emily morphed into Alex. They were standing in an alleyway and Owen was too late. The blond women's gun went off and he couldn't move. He was still frozen. Alex went down, every movement slowed down making it feel like he was watching her die in slow motion. Eventually she hit the ground, her blood too, wishing to escape. The only way to describe what he felt in that moment was to compare it too someone ripping his insides out, but that didn't even to begin to cover it...**

Owen sensed movement and everything changed again.

**Alex was the floor beneath him, her body perfectly still. Owen had her hand clasped behind her back in one of his, but she wasn't fighting him. He could feel her breathing, could feel the heat of her skin. It wasn't enough though. He had to make sure she was alive. That's the only reason he could explain what he did next... His hands and lips on her skin... He was acting like some kind of animal, but he couldn't seem to stop himself... Her soft moans only spurred him on... His fingers finding their way under her leggings... The heat and wetness he found there nearly caused him to loose his mind... He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside of her...**

Owen sprang upright his heart racing a mile a minute. Imagines of the nightmare he'd been having sprang to the forefront of his mind, before being replaced with more pleasurable sights. Alex writhing underneath, her back and neck exposed to him. It was the ultimate sign of submission and Owen was surprised, even though he knew he was only dreaming, that she would allow that. He knew bits and pieces of her past so that type of act, leaving herself to his mercy, would be out of character for her. He also felt kind of dirty for where mind had taken him. She was his friend. He shouldn't be having dreams of her like that. Maybe I just want her to trust me that much? Yeah, that was it. It was his subconscious way of admitting that he wanted her to trust him with everything. _Even I only partially believe that._

Running his hand down his face, Owen glanced around the room looking for Alex. He knew she'd been here when they brought here, but where was she now? It was hard to tell because the room was shrouded in darkness, but he was pretty sure he could make out the outline of someone on the couch. His shoulder tinged slightly when he moved to get out of the bed, but other than that it wasn't too bad. He was so used to injuries and physical pain that it was like a not-so-welcome friend coming back for a visit. He carefully navigated his way across the room until his eyes adjusted to the darkness and there she was.

Alex was turned on her side, her back to him. She had a light blanket over her and was using a cushion for a pillow. Owen shook his head in disapproval. The bed was plenty big enough for both of them and even if she was uncomfortable sharing with him, he would take the couch. Bending down, he braced himself against the upcoming pain and slipped his arms under her knees and her back. The pain meds must still have been working because he barely felt any sign of pain or maybe it was just that he'd become intoxicated by her scent. He couldn't help burying his head into the side of her neck and inhaling deeply. She made a sleepy, muffled noise that sounded like his name and cuddled closer to his body. Owen sighed heavily. He truly going to hell for the thoughts that were running through his head right now.

Owen carried her back to the bed and placed her down on the side he'd just vacated. She turned on her side again and nuzzled her head against the pillow. He watched her for a minute trying to figure out what to do. _Should I just go back to sleep? Or will I go help Nikita and the others interrogate the woman who shot me? _A past of him wanted to go all Cleaner on the blond woman who'd almost shot Alex, but a bigger part wanted to get back into the bed. In the end, that part of him won out and he found himself wrapping his arms around a soft Alex. He tugged her up against him, so she lay half on top of his chest, her head under his chin. Too restless to sleep Owen found himself turning on the news. He was hoping watching it for a while would help him drift back to sleep.

**"The police have found another woman's body in the river today. That brings the number to five. Investigators refuse to comment, but this reporter can say that all the women were raped and tortured before finally being strangled. They also shared similar physical characteristics, tall, brunette and..."**

Owen was distracted from the news broadcast by the brush of Alex's leg across his thighs. She cuddled closer to his body, her hand coming up to rest on his butterfly tattoo. Owen smiled faintly; if he was going to hell he ought as well enjoy it. He had never been a cuddler - at least from what he could remember - but their was something about Alex that made him want to hold her close and protect her from the nightmares of both their worlds. Owen pulled her closer, if that was even possible, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

* * *

**Alex**:

It was two weeks since she'd woken up in the hotel wrapped around Owen. She'd been surprised by her position, considering that she knew for sure she'd fallen asleep on the couch. Owen had blinked sleepy eyes at her when she'd questioned him on her new position and he'd smiled lightly. "You looked like you needed a bed." That's all he would say on the matter and Alex hadn't pressed. She didn't want him to think that she'd been freaked out. They'd shared a bed to often for her to be suddenly uncomfortable with the whole thing.

Alex was both relieved and saddened by the fact that he didn't seem to remember what happened between them. The sad part of her pissed her off. She wasn't supposed to what him to remember. He remained blissfully ignorant of their time together, although sometimes she's catch him giving her looks that made her insides squirm and her heart race. But then she'd start questioning herself; she could just be reading into the way he looked her too much, because he'd given her an unforgettable orgasm. Well, unforgettable for her, chemically forgettable for him. _Oh for God's sake! Stop thinking about it! You're supposed to be friends! That's it._

Alex had never been so confused and sexually frustrated in all her life. Her mind kept throwing her back into her memory of Owen's touch. His body atop her, cocooning her, protecting her. She didn't understand why her body hadn't reacted the way it usually did when a man was on top of her to long. She could handle it for a while, but eventually her need to be free of their weight would arise and she'd find herself discreetly pushing them away. Her reaction then, to Owen, confounded her. Not only had she not made an attempt to remove him, but she hadn't felt, even the fluttering, of a panicked heartbeat. What had made her heart pound were the kisses and bites that Owen had peppered all over her back and the way his talented fingers had made her see stars. _The drug he was given was meant to lower impulse control so what the hell had his first impulse been to touch me so intimately?_ That question had driven her to the punching bag more then once in the past few weeks.

**Punch! Kick! Punch! Punch! Kick!**

Beating the crap out of said punching bag was only serving to lessen the tension in her body for short intervals, but at least it was something. She was trying to keep things as friendly as possible between her and Owen and it was easy; far too easy. She had never taken to someone as quickly as she had to him and it unnerved her. Add to that the stuff in the hotel room and she knew she was far more vulnerable to Owen then she'd been to any other man she'd let into her life. She needed to protect herself from that sort of vulnerability.

"Alex?" She punched the bag harder at the sound of Sean calling her name. She was not in the proper frame of mind to deal with Sean right now. She would only say something that she'd immediately regret. She did not want to hurt him.

"Hey Sean," she grunted, not looking at him. **Kick! Punch! Punch! Kick!**

"How've you been?" He asked the question causally enough, but Alex could hear the edge under his voice. _Oh you know, confused, turned on, frustrated, dirty, excited to name but a few. Not to mention that all of these emotions are aimed at my roommate._ My very off limits roommate. But she wasn't about to say that to Sean, so she just shrugged her shoulders and kicked the bag again. "Look, I just wanted to say that I don't like how we left things. I mean we've been through so much; we can still be friends right?" The hopeful tone in Sean's voice gave Alex pause. She turned to face him, her hands on her hips. "We shared something Alex and I just don't want to throw that away."

"Friends. Just friends?" Alex questioned, suspicious of his intentions. Her inner spy made her scrutinise everyone's behaviour and Sean was no exception.

"Yeah, just friends." Sean nodded and smiled at her. "If we can work her way back to where we were before that would be an added bonus, but I'd be happy if we could still remain friends."

Alex took a deep breath, thinking over what he had said. Did she want to be friends? Yes, but she didn't want him to hold on to false hope of a relationship that couldn't happen. She wasn't about to tell him that they couldn't be friends, because she wanted that too. She'd just have to be careful how she acted around him for a while. _His a great guy. I only wish it had worked out better._

"Okay, Sean, we can be friends, but I'm saying right now that is all we can be," Alex stated firmly, looking him directly in the eye. Miscommunication had gotten them in trouble before, so she knew she had to be clear. "Okay?"

Sean nodded again. "Okay."

"Good." Alex turned back to the punching bag, rolling her neck from side to side. She had by no means worked off any of her tension before Sean had shown up, but then he asked a question that made her turn back to him again.

"You never did tell me what the butterfly tattoo meant?" He smiled at her, obviously just curious about it, but Alex felt herself clam up. _It's just a question Alex. He doesn't know what it means to you. _Luckily, the bite Owen had left had healed up pretty well and it was hardly noticeable anymore; unless you were looking for it. Putting on a smile, Alex shook her head and shrugged. "Come on it just a tat, sailors get them all the time.

"It's a personal thing."

Alex whipped around to see Owen putting his bag down on one of the weight benches. He wasn't looking at her, but she could sense his protectiveness. He'd obviously interrupted, because he knew how uncomfortable she was, but where had he come from? _Better yet, how the hell dose he read me so well?_ Owen yanked his t-shirt over his head, winching slightly. His wound was only two weeks old, but he was acting like it was healed already. Alex spun back around to face Sean, feeling utterly ridiculous. She still caught a glimpse of Owen's tattoos, making the ache inside of her flare up. Even before Owen had traced her Butterfly with his tongue and teeth, she'd been barely able to resist the urge to do the same to his and he had considerably more. _Stop it Alex. You're acting like a schoolgirl with a crush._ It wasn't like she hadn't seen him shirtless before or used his naked chest as a pillow, but it meant something different now. He hadn't given her an orgasm back then or reduced her body to a pile of goo.

"Yeah? You're like a walking billboard." Sean's voice drew Alex from her thoughts and she turned to face Owen again.

"I like to express myself physically since I'm not so good with the verbal." Owen was grinning as he said it, but the set of his jaw and the way he grinned – that could only be described as a baring of teeth – told another story. He was ready to beat the crap out of Sean and Alex wasn't sure why. Sean's chuckle did not help the situation. He was either oblivious to the anger Owen felt or he didn't care.

"I think we're all aware of that," Sean smirked, his stance automatically widening. "Mindlessly killing whoever gets in your way or whoever you're order to."

"Sean," Alex started, outraged on Owen's behalf.

"It's okay, Alex," Owen cut her off, his eyes engaged in an alpha male war with Sean.

"No, it's not," she huffed, grabbing her bag and hightailing it out of there. If those two wanted to get into a pissing contest she was not going to be in the middle. They could deal with it themselves. She was halfway back to the showers when she realised she'd forgotten her towel. Hoping they were finished, she made her way back only to discover both men were still there. She turned to leave again, but Owens voice caught her attention and she found herself lingering.

"I'd ease up on the tats thing," Owen commanded, lying down on the bench. "She'll tell you. If she wants too."

_God damn it, Owen! Why did he have to understand her so well?_

* * *

"Alex I need you to go to this address and check it out. Birkhoff did some digging and from what Avery has told us, we think Kristen might have lived there before Percy was taken out."

Alex nodded, glancing down at the piece of paper. "Knowing Percy, she probably wasn't up to anything good."

"That's the thing," Nikita said, with a sigh, her forehead scrunched in contemplation. "It doesn't seem like Kristen was trained as a field agent or as anything really. Avery said that the most she could get out of her sister was that Percy was using her to protect something or to keep something in line, but in what capacity or what the something is we have no idea." Nikita leaned back against the wall, her head following back lightly to rest against it. "We are hoping that this house will give us some clues as to what he was up to."

"Nothing good, that's fore sure," Alex muttered, distracted by the sight of Owen. He was heading down the corridor towards them, a faint smile on his face as he spoke to Birkhoff. "What are we going to do about Sonya?" Alex spoke softly, tracking the movement of both men with here eyes. She didn't want Birkhoff to overhear what they were talking about. He was already stressed enough about it. He had told Nikita about Sonya and the other mole when they'd returned from England.

"For now we use her to feed Amanda false information, but we're going to need to come up with a long term solution soon. Very soon," Nikita trailed off, straightening from the wall as the two men reached them.

"Hey Nikki. Hey Princess." Birkhoff smiled as Alex as she glared at him. "Would you prefer Your Highness? Or maybe You Most Queenly?" Alex almost had him, but he moved around Owen at the last minute so she was forced to stop short or collide with an amused looking Owen. Birkhoff ended up behind her, a huge grin on his face. "I was a Ninja King in another life."

Alex turned around and childishly stuck her tongue out at him. "Don't you mean in a video game? Besides if I really wanted to, you'd be on the floor right now begging for mercy."

"Oh, I'm so scared of the Princess Warrior," he said sarcastically, but still backed up a few steps. Alex narrowed her eyes at him and was about to show Birkhoff just how scared he should be when Owen threw his arm around her shoulders and dragged her into his side, effectively cutting short the bickering.

"It could be worse Princess," Owen said, chuckling. "He calls me the Terminator." Alex had been momentarily thrown off balance by Owen unexpected closeness, but she still managed to glare up at him for calling her Princess.

Nikita was laughing at their antics, some of the stress Alex had seen earlier evaporating from her face. She bumped her shoulder against Birkhoff's. "Terminator?"

"I stand by my statements," Birkhoff attested, shrugging slightly.

"Whatever, nerd," Alex said, stealing Nikita's pet name for Birkhoff. Alex really did love Birkhoff like that annoying older brother that you never wanted. He gave her a one finger salute and both he and Nikita headed off in the direction of Ops.

"You ready to go, then?" Owen asked, prompting Alex to look up at him once again, her eyebrows drawn together.

"Go? Go where?" Alex wasn't aware that she and Owen had made any plans for today. She certainly would have remembered considering that he invaded her thought more often than not.

"Didn't Nikita tell you that we're going to go check out Kristen's possible location?"

"She told me to check it out, but she forgot to tell me you were my partner." Owen grinned down at her and she found herself smiling back at him. It was only then she realised just how close they were standing, his warmth surrounding her. His mouth was only a few inches away from hers; all she had to do was reach up and...

"Okay cowboy, let's go," she announced loudly, almost leaping out from under his arm. He shot her a bemused look, but she choose to ignore it. Instead she tried to get herself back under control. _And now I have to spend three hours in a inclosed space with him..._ She had just turned around to walk - flee - to the garage, but Owen caught her elbow before she could move - get - away.

"Alex, about before - " Owen's hesitant tone had her mouth turning down in a worried frown. She turned to face him and the uncertain look on his face made her earlier discomfort vanish. He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes not quite meeting hers. _Oh God! Did he remember what happened? Was he about to let her down gently?_ Alex was torn; she wanted to run from this conversation, but hearing him tell her it was a mistake might give her the closure she needed to move past it. Because that was she wanted. To move past it.

"What's wrong, Owen?" She reached out without thinking and brushed her fingers along the back of his hand. His eyes tracked her movements, his gaze so intense it almost felt like a caress. Her first urge was to pull her hand back, but that would make it seem like it meant more to her then just a gesture between friends, so she forced herself to give his hand a light squeeze before drawing back. "You know you can talk to me."

Owen's eyes remained on his hand for a second longer, before his head snapped back up and to meet her stare. He slowly nodded and rubbed his neck again. "What Sean said about me being mindless - "

"Owen, you're not - "

"Wait, let me finish." Alex nodded and clamped her mouth shut. "I know what they all think of me. That I'm like a bull. I see red, charge and don't care about the consequences. I'm used to it. I am, was, just a mindless robot for so long that I don't know how to be around people anymore. I don't even know if I ever did. All I do know is that Amanda created me; turned me into a mindless killer and that's all anybody is going to see when they look at me. I just hope that you know that I'm trying to be better."

Alex heart tripped over itself. Owen looked so resigned to his fate, so sad, that Alex wanted to throw herself into his arms. He had such a low opinion of his worth. Just like she herself had. Despite all the good she'd done, despite the people that she loved and loved her back, there were times when Alex questioned wether she was worthy of it. She felt dirty, used, degraded whenever she thought of her past and it made her want to self-destruct, but somehow she always found a way to drag herself out of the void. She wasn't going to let her past define her. She wanted the same for him.

"Owen, don't let them define you. Don't let anyone or anything define you." She reached out again, this time on purpose and took his hand. "You are not a mindless robot. I don't see you like that. You are my friend and considering how hard I find it to make friends, that is a big deal." Alex smiled hesitantly, not sure how Owen would respond, but she needn't have worried. He used the hold she had on his hand to pull her forward into the hug she had wanted to give him moments before. His arms wrapped around her waist and her shoulders, his cheek resting against her hair. She sank into his embrace far to easily, but couldn't bring herself to break contact until he did.

* * *

They'd been driving for over an hour and Alex wasn't sure how she'd managed to keep her composure. Her time with Nikita and even in Division had helped her gain some control over her turbulent emotions, but being this close to Owen, inhaling his scent was proving to be an exercise of all that she'd been thought. Her mind kept trying to drag her back to the feel of Owen's body, his lips, his fingers, the way he'd caused her blood to catch fire. _And we haven't even kissed. Nor are we going to. Ever. We are friends. Just friends. Besides, Owen's never showed any interest in me. Not like that. His always treated me like a friend, who just happen to cuddle. _Even as those thoughts crossed her mind, her body was betraying her, her head shaking side to side slightly, as if rejecting her perfectly logical line of thinking.

"Thanks," Owen said, finally breaking the silence, distracting her from what was going on in her head. She turned her head toward and raised a questioning eyebrow. "For what you said back there. Emily used to say stuff like that all the time. That I could change. That's why I got my butterfly," he patted his chest and glanced over at her. "She said it was proof that - "

" - people can have a second life." Alex couldn't help the smile that graced her face. Here was something else the two of them shared. They both wanted that chance at a second life.

"Yeah," he agreed, his own smile answering hers.

"Someone I knew used to say the same thing all the time." Alex looked out the window, her eyes full of the past.

"Is that why you got your ink?" Alex was glad Owen was driving. She wouldn't be able to tell this story if she had watch his reaction. Not that she thought that he'd judge her, but because it already put her on the verge of tears to talk it about. Never mind seeing someone empathise with her. She was sure she'd start blubbering like a baby and that could not happen now. They were on a mission. That came before emotional outbursts.

"She was a girl. In the place -" Alex swallowed a lump and forced the word from her mouth. "Brothel. That's where they put when I first came here. We shared a room. She said she would dream some nights about escaping by climbing to the roof and flying away on butterfly wings. One night she got high. She made it up there. To the roof. And... She decided to try and fly." Alex could still remember the shock and numbness that had accompanied the news of her death. Her only companion dead. She vowed never to get close again; the pain to much to bare. "She was innocent." _Like I was._

"I'm sorry," Owen said, genuine warmth and empathy lacing his voice. She turned to find him watching her and she smiled softly, before he turned his eyes back to the road.

_So am I._


	15. Chapter 15

**I apologise for the long hiatus, but I've just completed a half of my masters, so my life he's seen constant college work :( but finally I get to write for these two amazing characters again. This chapter isn't as long as the last three, but my brain is still a bit academically mushy so it's the best I can do.**

**Thank you all for your patience.**

**Alex POV:**

"Did you see the picture that Avery provided of her sister?" Owen asked as they drove on to Kristen's street.

"Yeah, she's basically a brunette version of Avery," Alex commented, watching the houses pass by her window.

"Here we are." Owen pulled over, parking the car in front of large Victorian house. For some unknown reason, a shiver skirted down Alex's spine making her shudder. Luckily, he was scouting out the house through the window, so he missed her odd reaction. There was something about the building that gave her creeps and she hadn't even stepped inside yet.

"I don't like it. It gives me the creeps," she found herself saying, without thought. She hadn't meant to voice her subconscious reaction to the building, but when she was around Owen, she discovered that more often than not she was more willing to share with him. The little tidbit of information she'd just told him about her past was proof enough of that. It was probably because he didn't try and act all 'adult' like the others, so she didn't feel the need to act grown-up all the time. If her age showed, he didn't call her out on it or think her childish. Not that she thought the others judged her for being young, nor did she consider herself young, but it did led to near constant need to prove herself, her value, her worth. She also needed to show them that she could handle the burdens and trauma that came with their job. She'd already survived hell and was now safely in purgatory. She never felt the need to worry about any of that stuff with Owen. She felt safe enough to do or say anything around him. Except maybe that one thing that would ruin their friendship.

"Yeah, me either," he agreed without turning around. "If we were in a horror movie right now, I'd turn our asses round and head back to Division." Owen grinned over at her and winked. Alex ignored the little flutter in her belly and smiled at him. "But since we're staring in a spy movie, I guess we better do as M ordered us and check the place out."

Owen stepped out the car and made his way toward the house, Alex close behind him.

**Nikita POV:**

"My sister is a soft soul," Avery began, her back ramrod straight and legs crossed as she surveyed the people sitting in the interrogation room with her. Nikita had taken point, but she'd brought Sean with her as well. Despite the rouse in the bar, Nikita felt that Avery and Sean had made a connection and she wanted to see if she was right.

"We share the same father, but my mother had the sense to leave him after he beat for the hundredth time. I was four. Nineteen years later, my dead-beat-dad's arrest jacket found its way to my desk and I found out I had a half sister. When I found her, she was eighteen and as high as a kite. Told me that her dad used to beat her and her mom and that her mother never left. So she ran away. She was fourteen, had been living on the streets with her boyfriend since. She'd gotten into drugs pretty early and used to act as a mule for them sometimes. Who'd ever suspect a young girl of carrying drugs? I helped her get sober. It wasn't easy, but we managed and for about two and a half years we were sisters." Avery pauses to take a deep breath. Nikita couldn't help drawing parallels between Kristen and Alex. Both girls had suffered horrible childhoods and then Division had happened.

"I came back from a twenty-four hour night shift one morning and she was gone. All of her stuff. Everything. Just gone." Avery clasped her hands together on her lap, clenching them so tightly that her knuckles turn white. "There was even a note in her handwriting. I'm sorry, it said, please don't look for me."

**Alex POV:**

It was easy for Owen to pick the lock on the backdoor. If was a residential neighbourhood and they couldn't afford to be seen loitering outside the front door of someone's home. Owen has already checked for an alarm system, but there was none. Both of them found that strange. Division agents were a paranoid bunch thanks to their training, so Kristen's lack of security measures was odd. There was nothing out of the ordinary about anything in the house either. It was your standard kitchen, dining room, sitting room setting with three bedrooms upstairs, a bathroom and an attic. Owen and Alex methodically searched the entire building beginning with the attic, both searching for any clues. It was empty except for a few cobwebs. Alex had them taken upstairs and Owen downstairs.

Alex found women's clothes and shoes, some make-up, perfume and everyday facial essentials in one of the bedrooms. The other two room, when she'd opened the door, were bare. No furniture or beds, just a hollow space. There was no sign of any pictures or anything that made the place personal. Nothing to hint at the person Kristen was, but at the same time Alex couldn't help but feeling like the house was haunted. Not in the conventual sense of ghosts and spirits, but haunted by the lack of the person. _If that even makes any sense,_ she scolded herself. _Here I am spooking myself out in the middle of the day, because I feel like the house is haunted by the __**lack**__ of a spirit._

"Alex, come down here," Owen shouted, his voice carrying up the stairs. Turning away from the room and her spooky thoughts, she silently skipped down the stairs. She found Owen in the kitchen standing in front of what she assumed was the basement door.

"There was nothing upstairs, just some women's clothes." Owen didn't answer, but continued to stare down into the basement. "Owen, what is it?"

"There's a security keypad system on that door, as well as three bolts with padlocks. This door was also hidden behind a cupboard. I felt a weird draft so I checked it out. The door was locked too." As he was speaking, he slowly made his way down the steps, one-by-one, careful not to touch anything with his hands. Obviously he was checking for hidden traps, because whatever was hidden down there, somebody didn't want it to be found.

**Nikita's POV:**

"I looked. Of course I looked," Avery said distantly. "She was my sister and I'd just found her. I started to dig, checked all her old haunts and roughed up her ex-boyfriend, but nothing. There was no sign of her."

Nikita felt sympathy for the other women will up despite her having almost killed her friends. Avery was just trying to find her sister and if she had been in her shoes she would have done the same. "How did Division get on your radar?" Nikita finally asked, pulling Avery out of her thoughts. She'd been staring off into the distance, her eyes full of painful memories.

"A few months ago, Kris just shows up at my door." Avery savagely twists her hands together again, guilt shining from her eyes. "She told me a story. A story about escaping from some underground facility called Division. I thought...I thought she was making it all up. Just an excuse she cooked up for falling off the wagon. It had been four years with no word and she just shows up expecting me to buy into a secret assassins den. That she was kidnapped and forced to... "

**Alex's POV:**

"Thanks Birkhoff," Alex said, hanging up the phone. He'd helped them override the security system and Owen was busy using a bolt cutter to cut through the padlocks. "What do you think is in there?" Alex asked, curiosity colouring her voice. She stood behind Owen, watching the muscles in his neck and shoulders work. She resisted the urge to reach out and stroke his neck with her fingers.

"Don"t know," he responded, unaware of her internal musings. "But I think we should draw our guns just in case." Alex pulled her gun out if its holster and held it by her side. Owen cut the last padlock and pulled his own weapon out. "I'll take point, you wait here and cover our escape if needed." Alex nodded and held up three fingers.

3...

2...

1...

Owen twisted the door knob, the door swinging slowly inwards. An odd smell, like rotting meat wafted toward them as air escaped the room. The only light was from the kitchen, so Owen switched on his torch casting it around the room, but it appeared the room was to large for the beam of light to make anything distinct out. Alex was covering his back, one eye on the door at the top the stairs and the other on Owen. She couldn't see past his back, but he stepped forward into the room. Suddenly, she was blinded by garish bright light. Alex blinked in surprise, her eyes slowly adjusting to the brightness. "What the fuck?" Owen's horrified words filled her ears and Alex raced into the room almost dropping her gun at the sight that greeted her. A gasp of horror escaped her lips "Oh God!"

**Nikita's POV:**

"She said, that this Percy guy told her that her that she was to keep a man named Sebastian happy, no matter what. If she didn't cooperate he would kill me. If she tried to run, he would kill me." Now Nikita understood the guilt she saw in Avery's eyes. She blamed herself for Kristen's predicament when really she should be blaming Percy. Even from beyond the grave, the tyrant was reeking havoc on people's lives. "She didn't really talk about what she had to do, but I got the impression that it wasn't pleasant. The thing is for the longest time I didn't believe her and then she disappeared again."

Tears sprang to Avery's eyes, sliding down her cheeks. Still, she remained still and composed. "Hindsight is wonderfully horrible thing. Now that I look back it was obvious she was suffering from PTSD. She'd wake in the middle of the night screaming. She didn't want to leave the apartment, didn't want to be touched. What did I do about it?" Avery swipes gently at her tears. "I continued to believe that it was all excuses."

**Alex POV:**

The girl was only partially dressed, her body strapped to a wooden X. Her skin was bleached of colour except where she been bruised and cut, her throat an ugly, grinning slash. Alex's hands and feet went numb, her eyes involuntarily seeking out more details. The far wall was covered in various torturous sex implements and there was an open cage in the left hand corner.

Then Owen was there, his arms surrounding her, practically dragging her back up the kitchen and slamming the door closed behind them. Alex throat felt constricted, her heart trying to pound it's way out of her chest. She couldn't draw breath into her lungs, her mind refusing to process what she'd just seen. "Alex breathe," Owen took her face in his hands and made her look at him. "Alex, sweetheart, I need you to breathe for me." Alex made herself focus on Owen, only Owen. She found herself doing as he asked, compelled by a need to make the worry and concern that shone from his eyes disappear. "In. Out. Yeah, that's it." She reached up, wrapping her hands around his wrists and held on. His thumbs caressed her cheeks, wiping at the tears she hadn't even know we're falling.

"That poor girl, Owen." Alex gasped out, memories of her time as a slave threatening to overwhelm her. She'd seen many girls killed or worse, but never subjected to the torture chamber that was set up in that basement. Whatever vile creature had killed that girl deserved to be strung up by his intestines and left to rot. Owen doesn't bother telling her that its going to be okay. Instead pulls her into his body, his arms encasing her in a steel grip, like he's never going to let her go. Alex only became aware of how cold she had become, when Owen's heat started seeping into her. She clutched his jacket in her hands, her head buried against his neck.

"I have to call Nikita and Michael." Alex held him tighter, afraid that he was going to let go. She'd be strong when the others showed up, but right now she needed to be comforted. She couldn't open her mouth to ask for it, but Owen seemed to know what she needed none the less. He pulled his cellphone out of his coat pocket and made the call all the while holding Alex close to him. She only tuned into the end of his conversation, to busy battling off her own demons.

"It wasn't Kristen, but the girl looked an awful lot like her," Owen was saying. He moved the hand not holding his phone into Alex's hair, tangling it between his fingers. She got the impression he was making sure she couldn't pull away from him while he was distracted. "Wait! Did you say Sebastian?" Owen sharp tone had Alex looking up at him. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard and his hand had fisted in her hair. "Yeah, I've heard of him. The sick bastard is supposed to be dead."


End file.
